Star Wars: A Forbidden Study
by ShadowStabbing1
Summary: Set 60 years before A New Hope, and approximately 30 years before The Phantom Menace. This story follows the adventures of Mill Kandor, a reclusive and aged Jedi who has long foreseen trouble for the order. Mill has an idea for how to save the order, believing the secret may lie within the dark side of the force. Will the order allow such a dark study? Feedback is appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

Jedi Master Kandor walks up the steps leading into the jedi council chambers. The glistening gold-metallic sheen of the semi-circular rotating doors blinds him as he passes through them into the den of the cabal. The bustling city sprawls out from underneath the large glass windows separating the Jedi and the open air. He looks back at himself in the glass, years of fighting and loss worn in his tired expression. His long brown hair falls disheveled across his shoulders. The long, greying facial hair completes a hermit-like look he has maintained over the last decade, alongside the old consular clothing he wears to show his disinterest in the war-politics he has dealt with for most his life.

Hastily preparing for a presentation to the council used to make him nervous and his stomach flutter. Now, Mill prepares only for disappointment and another lecture. The council always criticizes him for being too radical in his beliefs, for seeking too radical of a study, and for having no real plan. This time is different- although it is still a dangerous study inspired by radical beliefs— he does have a plan. To fly to Moltok in the Dartibek system and meditate in a dark nexus centered around a legendary waterfall known to contain an evil energy. Mustering his confidence, repressing his anger, and ordering his arguments, Mill clenches his fist and quiets his beating heart to a subdued snore.

A droid's metallic drawl invites in the circumspect Jedi "The council is now ready for you." Mill enters a hemispherical chamber contained within a glass panorama of the city below and looks directly ahead, avoiding the eyes of the council members that now surround him like stick-wielding monkeys behind brush, protecting their jungle from unadmitted predators. Behind his back sits the two newest members: Master Dooku from Serenno, and Master Sifo-Dyas from Minashee. _Both timorous Jedi unfit to hold their positions, _Master Kandor thinks to himself. To his left beside Dooku sits Saesee Tiin, a fearsome Iktotchi warrior with little governing ability, and to his right beside Sifo-Dyas is Jocasta Nu, a glorified librarian who has no business being in the council. Beside her is master drew-keel, an Ongree famous for his piloting and diplomacy. He helped Mill with his piloting when he was new to the order, even giving him a station on a jedi squadron for a time before Mill stepped away from militant roles in the order. Beside Master Tiin is the seat where Master Tu'n sits, empty due to business outside of Council-member duties.

The other six sat in front of him. In his peripheral sat Master Rancisis, the wise and venerable Thisspiasian, and Master Tyvokka, the Wookie renowned for his honor and outspoken austerity. The rest of the council directly ahead of him from left to right: Master Yaddle, Master Yarael Poof, Master Yoda, and Vux Shike. Master Yaddle is a small green creature housing 400 years of experience and wisdom. Master Yarael is a Quermarian, and greatly misunderstood; coming from a philosopher's culture, his readiness to discuss existence and intention gained him a reputation for being priggish and distant. He is Master Kandor's closest friend in the council, and still a healthy interstice exists between them. Master Yoda is of the same species as Yaddle, and has attained equal éclat to her, with double the life experience nearing a millennium old. In the last seat is Vux Shrike. Technically, he is a Jedi-Master, but is undeserving of the title as far as Mill is concerned. He is noted for offering soft and respectful council, but he is always the strongest voice of dissent against Mill.

Quickly, Mill tries to interrupt the flow of thoughts regarding the council members, afraid of Yoda's ability to read his irreverent glares. Mill clears his throat, then setting his gaze far off into the urban canopy of Coruscant, and breathing in faint encouragements from the billions of lifeforms below him, He begins his presentation with a simple adage summarizing his experiences with the council, "You, the council, and I have never seen eye to eye."

Yoda looks down, blinks slow and readies his thoughts to face Master Kandor with an open mind. Vux, on the other hand, burrows further into his seat, then resting his leg casually over his lap, he slips an arrogant smile over his synthetically handsome face. The other members seem prepared; ready to hear out the concerned Jedi, but with predetermined reservation. Mill shuffles before beginning his stuffy speech—a staple of high council politics.

"I have been told to reconsider my opinions, build barriers from the influences of the dark side, and to silence my admonishments in the interest of the order as a whole. I come to you today out of interest for the order, but cannot hide my true opinion of our path hitherto. I have foretold of my concerns about the fate of our order. That by remaining dogmatic, we leave room in the Universe for evil to inspissate, spread, and corrupt. We deal with conspicuous threats that emerge, but are ignorant to the threats born from our ideology. Enjoying the light and security of the last millennia since the fall of the Sith, the confidence of our position has buried these threats in history's grave. We remain vulnerable to its lure, our bellies exposed to the fangs of enmity camouflaged by our own disillusionment. That is why I come to you with a request. To freely study the dark side, to report my findings, and to learn of the entelechy of the dark side, its motivation and intention, its place in the force, and the essential characteristics that make it so."

A pause just long enough to make Mill feel awkward ensues. A few council members exchange glances—for better or worse Mill could not tell. Master Yoda answers first, with earnest consideration, as Mill has grown to respect from the strange Jedi, "The dark side, you seek. But good, always I have sensed in you. What is in the dark, that we cannot access in the light?"

"I do not know, that is what I wish to study," Mill answered, still avoiding the Jedi's eyes. "I belong to the belief that the force must be balanced. And I also believe the dark side to be a necessary half of the force, but the peace we have experienced for so long does not support this need for balance."

"This means the dark is out there still, you think? surrounding an individual or group perhaps? Or must we embrace this ourselves hmm?"

"I do not know Master, all I know is I will never know the answer to such things if I am unable to research this myself."

Master Rancisis offers the next question to the council's inquiry, "And do you refer to the prophecy when you declare a need for balance in the force?"

After hesitating for a moment, Mill replies, "Not explicitly no, I merely offer a consideration to the essential characteristics of the force itself, as we know it. It is a living thing, or the spirit of living embodied in a power privy to us all. Furthermore, all living things desire to be understood. Does this not call into consideration our duty as adherents to the force? Should we not seek out all aspects of the force? By understanding the force in its entirety, we may be able to understand why our enemies rise in the first place. Why they exist in antithesis to our entire being."

"Except they do not exist, they have not existed for a thousand years!" Dooku bellows from behind Mill. He does not turn to acknowledge Dooku's outcry, instead locking eyes with Yoda in an uncomfortable attempt at cohesion.

"I ask of you councilors not to assert a reemergence of our old foe. I share equal belief that they are destroyed, but I do not believe the source of their origin is. I think there is potential that the dark side will seek balance, and that this fate is avoidable if we act now to understand the needs and wants of this power. I wish to fly to the planet Moltok, seek out a location matching the description of a dark-force nexus, and study this energy. I consent to bringing armed guard and ask only for a ship, a formal grant enabling me open access to the system as a scholar, and the sabbatical necessary to complete my task. Give me just three…"

"This!" Vux Shike registers his voice above Mills in a move to command the floor, "This demand! And aggressive display of antinomian banter spits in the face of all of our tradition and sacrifices. This is the beginning of an inimical resistance to our order, our way of life." Then turning to Mill directly, he continues, "You do not ask to study in peace a harmless subject, you wish to harness the power of the dark side with full permission by the Jedi Council. The rest of your intimations are tricks. Allowing a Jedi to study the dark ways is the only way the Sith may return, and we cannot allow such things for the exact reasons you yourself have laid out, Master Kandor."

"I agree with Master Shike" Sifo-Dyas adds. "And I too" Master Dooku says in succession. "All sides must be considered," counters Drew-Keel, before the Wookie Tyvokka adds "Whrrraaargh!" to the commotion.

Yoda bangs his wooden walking stick on the ground, the sound of tapping glass and dense gimer fibers drown out the prevailing opinions. "Enough, enough. I think such an expedition too dangerous to carry out. But further thought, we all should give on the matter. Disapproval, I suggest for now. Continued studies on the light side of the force, you shall maintain. You have rid yourself of the feed of the dark side, and from you, I sense little fear or passion. With you, I would trust this task over most others, but it is too dangerous for now. All others in agreement?" Silence, along with an assortment of shared glances between the council members, commences. Then like a ring of dominoes, the council member's heads nod circuitously from one end to the other. A sardonic smile forms on Vux Shrike's face, and a sorry look registers on Master Yarael's as he meets Mill's eyes and nods aporetically.

Mill leaves the chambers and walks to the hall of records in the Temple's lower levels. He has an office outside of the archives, and heads there to reclaim his things and organize his thoughts. He reaches his office and finds a mass of clutter on his central desk. Four large tomes lay sprawled across, and a star chart of the outer rim hangs limply over the table—the weight of the silken scroll slowly works to eventually pull it off the desk. Mill slams the central book, then leans over and rests his head over his hand. Breathing slowly, he thinks about what is upsetting him and subdues the feelings of resentment that bubble to the surface. He considers meditating on his next move, when he notices a red flashing light tucked into this belt. It is the communicator he used during his piloting days, but only two people have access to his frequency: his business associate Plank, a Neimoidian who gets him rare collections and information in exchange for credits, and his former padawan Sbeit Chemen.

His Padawan's voice picks up over the communicator, a voice recording left for him from just minutes prior, "Master Kandor, apologies for not answering your last transmissions until now. I did watch the interrogation as you requested. I agree that the tactics were not belonging of a Jedi. But I also recognize, as should you, that he was in a tense situation. The Zabrak thug had sensitive information. Of course, we can talk about this at greater length the next time we cross paths, but we know we'll likely not agree on a point. I wish you luck with your petition to the council, and hope this time they do consider your points. I still disagree, but will support you however I may. Remember to be nice, and to not argue with Master Vux. If you do receive permission, inform me so I may plan around your absence. I will be in the Shiwal sector for the coming week providing rations to victims and planning military tactics with the revolutionaries. I will inform you of my travels, and you will hear from me next with that very transmission. May the force be with you, and remain hospitable."

Master Kandor sits in his chair and thinks of his former padawan: out fighting a war before stopping to think whether it is justified. Per usual, he reminds Mill of himself during his early days in the order. That very thought makes him cringe before he consciously restrains the flow of memories that naturally follow.

He instead closes his eyes. He pictures the ball of energy that has been captivating his dreams of late. A black mist pours out from a dark Holocron directly behind his shoulder. The device opens and light breaks out of the front. A line of golden light bisects the room, revealing half of a hollow chamber in bright light, the other half still blanketed by a thick veil of darkness. Standing in front of the Holocron, Mill's shadow carves into the display ahead. On the lit side, a humanoid mass of solid black; in the dark half it appears too, but filled in by a golden hue as if his shadow were an illusion of negative space. He feels himself get pulled toward the holocron behind him, as if being tugged from behind by his belt. The sensation wraps itself around him, and he falls in the direction of the pull. Seconds before nearly collapsing to the ground behind him, he awakens with a start and looks into the eyes of his old friend, Jedi Master Drew-Keel.


	2. Chapter 2

Master Keel Smiles at him, and Mill looks directly into his right eye, then his left. It is hard to maintain a stare with an Ongree too long because their eyes, spaced a foot apart, hang from the sides of their face, making a person who stares too long feel nervous. Mill has mastered the art by now, and keeps eye contact with his old friend, still dazed from the sudden dream. A big smile forms on Drew Keel's face.

"You seemed to really impress the council this time. Last time you had barely gotten into the room before it all fell apart." Drew-Keel laughs and seats himself on the dusty chair in the corner.

"You jest, but this is an important matter. The council's narrow-minded view will blow up in all our faces."

The smile dissolves from Drew-Keel's face, his tone sharpens, "You understand the possible consequences of what you seek. Surely you must understand the Council's caution. I would agree to it if the others would, but I myself would only do so if measures are taken to ensure the project is undertaken carefully, and is well organized. Asking to go out alone and explore the evil we are sworn to protect the galaxy from is no matter to rush."

"Another lecture is not what I need currently." Mill looks down at the star map, trying to think of other ways he may arrive in Moltok.

With an empathetic tone, Drew-Keel continues, "I know these concerns of yours bring great pain. And I know you think this mission is from the force itself. I am beginning to agree with you." Mill looks back up at his old teacher, then focuses his eyes askance at Keel.

"Why the change of heart?" Mill asks warily.

"My nephew was selected to secure and deliver a medication patent to the people of Mygeeto, an outbreak has infected a couple hundred and is capable of spreading even further. They have quarantined the region and no ships have clearance to enter or leave. The Jedi were keen to help, but seeing no real threat, decided to select a newly knighted Jedi. My nephew was the candidate selected, and he was scheduled to leave yesterday.

Mill, having grown tired of the story already, interrupts, "I'm sorry master, but I am unsure how this relates to my current situation. I do enjoy your company, but must figure out my next"—

"Patience, Master Kandor. Your path is being revealed to you." Silence and more staring continued. After five seconds passes, Mill says "okay" under his breath and begins collecting his materials, when Keel begins with excitement, "His first stop is Moltok."

Kandor furrows his brows, "And you think this is the work of the force?"

"As I said before," Keel replies, "He was to leave yesterday. I had ill feeling toward the venture and told him to wait until either more information arrives, or this feeling passes. When you said in the meeting Moltok is where you wish to travel to, I knew it was intervention that made me postpone his journey. I believe it was the will of the force, and his status as a newly knighted Jedi authorizes me to appoint a seasoned Jedi as a passenger for his trip."

"But the council would never let me go, not after I made it known my intentions for travelling to Moltok. And to travel as a bodyguard, that is a lifetime behind me. I think other arrangements should be made."

"This is your chance. I'll worry about the Council, and Menyoo can handle himself, he does not need you to guard him. He is a strong knight, like his Uncle. That just excuses the trip. You feel it too, you have made it clear this is your path. And there is no time to meditate on this. Dock 22, he is leaving soon and I must see him off. Do what you feel is right, but I don't want to hear from you again about how nobody ever helps you!"

And off Drew-Keel went, shuffling out of the door, with pep in his step as if he were taking the journey himself. _There is nothing to be excited about, just work, _Mill thinks to himself as he watches Drew-Keel leave. Once he is out of view, Mill jumps up and collects his belongings as fast as he can. Throwing the four large books into a bag, he grabs the star map, a spare robe, and some hygiene products.

Mill remembers he still needs the book on the history of the Sith. He had requested it be pulled out of the special collections, and was due to be collected late this afternoon. Not wanting to be without it, he hurries out of his office, slamming the door and knocking over a lamp on a table near the door. Stopping to consider whether he should pick up his mess, he decides he doesn't have the time and heads to the collections office.

He comes across the desk of Jocasta Nu and is met with glaring eyes. "Master Kandor, I told you we would be unable to release your work until this afternoon. I trust you are not here to expediate sensitive processes."

Mill sighs to himself, "Master Nu, I understand there are thirty or so forms that must be filed before I can receive the book, but time is of the essence, and my need for it has increased. There is nothing we can do to speed up the process?"

She looks down at the loose bag held under Mill's left hand. Books are close to toppling out of the top, his second robe is dragging, clenched underneath his arm. "Are you leaving us for a while, is that why? You know this book cannot be removed from the temple, surely."

Mill looks down, then to the side, then back down unsure how to proceed. "I do know the rule, and I understand rules to be guidelines for the masses, not strict restrictions in matters of importance. There must be an exception that can be made. Allow me to make my case."

A slow, aged voice comes from behind Mill, "Or I can make it for you. On my authority, Master Nu, release the collection." Behind Mill stands Jedi master Yarael Poof. Jocasta nods, shoots a final glare at Mill, then disappears into the rows of books behind her.

"Master Poof, thank you, but you take great risk releasing it to me. I don't want any trouble to come your way due to my actions."

"Worry not Mill. I know when you are determined, and you do not hide your intentions well. We all know you are leaving with or without permission, why make it hard on you? This favor does not come free, however. I do request you keep me updated as you complete your studies. I'm not sure what the right thing is to do, but I do share the same concerns as the council. Making it so you do this behind our back means we cannot control the situation if it gets out of hand. You're a good Jedi Mill, stay your course."

Mill forces a smile to show his appreciation. An assistant comes out from the first of an impossibly long row of bookshelves with a wooden box in his hands. He hands the box to Mill carefully, then looks at Master Poof and says "Master Nu requests your presence, Master Kondor you are free do as you will." Yarael walks by Mill, then turns and bows, leaning his long white neck down to Mill's shoulder, "Good luck old friend, may the force be with you."

Mill departs toward the docks, carrying the heavy box in his arms, dragging his robe behind him, and struggling to keep the books hanging precariously from his shoulder in his bag.

When he arrives to the dock, there are two ships on the outdoor launch pad. A welcoming sparkle and fresh polish steers Mill's attention toward the first ship: a massive, state of the art Nu-class republic transport. Alternating lines of glistening new white and red paint detail the exterior. A front mounted boarding hatch lay open under the cockpit of the shuttle. Hiding behind it are two large shock cannons capable of blasting several fighters out of the air within a minute. Large wings stand folded back, towering into the air, making room for the landing gear that keeps the shuttle in place, and showcasing the impressive wingspan of the intimidating ship.

The second ship was a small junker. A 4 and a half meter long rusted rectangle, with a raised cockpit and a small glass bubble protruding from the top. The only window on the ship is toward the front, one and a fifth meter from the base—hardly compatible for passengers of average height to look out into space. The door to enter the ship takes up the entire left side. The hinges look welded over where bubbles of steel have formed at the corners of the frame. Mill could not help but chuckle to himself looking at that ship, assuming that it is both not space worthy, and taking up valuable real estate in the republic's yard.

He approaches the Nu-class transport and drops his bag down in front of the ship. He begins to fold his robe so he can put in with his books, when he hears a shout from behind, "Mill! Over here! this is the ship!" three meters to the right of the small rusted cruiser stands Drew-Keel and another Ongree—a spitting image of the old Jedi, like twins, but separated by a generation of hardship. Both are about 180 centimeters, with leathery, rusted orange skin, and thick dual fingered hands. Characteristic of the species, their eyes are off to the side of their faces, with lipless mouths sitting directly in the middle of their face. Large, full rows of teeth fill the cavernous gape left in the center of their skull, making Drew-Keel's smile both menacing and inviting in a single look. The tops of their heads narrow into a point. From under their chins hang six tendrils of differing sizes that constantly appear wet, but are actually dry according to those brave enough to feel them.

Mill picks back up his bag, making a display of his displeasure—having been corrected—then reluctantly walks over to the ship, "You have expensive taste my young master!" Drew-Keel says, then laughs a hearty, full laugh. Mill, feeling less sure of the plan, says, "I just expected too much of the Council. Once again."

"Enough of that!" Drew-Keel pats Mill with his thick fingers, "This is Menyoo. Menyoo, this is Master Kandor."

"And now that the tardy master has arrived, I can begin my, _overdue_, travel." Menyoo-Keel remarks, glaring at his uncle. Turning to Mill, he continues, "You may put your belongings in the back, Master Kandor. The small cot on the left is where I sleep. You can pick anywhere else. And we leave in 20 minutes, so don't delay any longer."

Menyoo heads into the ship, and Mill watches with a lack of deference. "I'm sorry about his attitude," Drew-Keel says with a saddened tone, "his temperance was controlled under his training, but since reaching knighthood, he seems to have lost regard for authority. I can't imagine a trip with you will help any, but perhaps he may learn a few things along the way."

"We will be fine. so long as he stays out of my way, and I his, we should get along. Even in such cramped quarters. I'm sorry I was not appreciative before. I will watch over him Master."

"Good" Drew-Keel says with a smile, "then off you go. You must get situated before your long journey. And keep me informed of any changes that occur on the trip! I will keep the council at bay until you are ready to return, but it would help if I know everything is progressing smoothly in the meantime."

Mill locks eyes with Drew-Keel's left eye, "May the force be with you Master" and with a short bow, Mill takes up his belongings and steps into the ship. Somehow, it was even smaller from the inside. The cots were fitted into the walls on either side. The one against the left wall has padding over the cold steel, and is strewn with Menyoo-Keel's belongings. The cot against the right wall is suspended in the air above Mill's head. Because it is melded to the door, it too lifts into the air when the door opens. The back of the ship has metal bits leaning against the wall and laying on the floor. A small door conceals a restroom, with only one flushing station and a small sink. The front of the vessel has a small table with two chairs and cabinets above it, beside a small refrigeration device sitting on a shelf, with large, rusty bolts securing it to the shelf. Tubes and wires hang limply from the ceilings surrounding the table, jittering to the light thrum that can be felt through the linoleum floorboards under Mill's feet.

Mill drops his bag down to a heavy thud, and places the box down carefully in the corner. He goes to inspect the pantry for provisions, when a whirling sound starts just above his head. He turns to his side and ducks, then 'clunk clunk clunk,' the sound of metal banging against metal trails from the roof down to the floor near Mill's feat. A small droid stands on four thin metal legs, each bent downward at a single joint that separates the legs into two halves. The body of the droid is cylindrical, narrowing toward the bottom, with a hook hanging from the base of the body. The top is inverted inward toward a neck of sorts, then widens out again, distinguishing a head. A metallic sound escapes from a horizontal slit in the droid below two flat, brown wave-patterned eyes, secured evenly inside the metal.

"Hello Master, I am your pilot. TC-26, special designations. I am happy to make your acquaintance. I apologize for the tight spaces, but I can assure you—"

"Wipe your personality software." Mill says callously, "It is nothing personal, but Droids have a tendency to be garrulous, and I do not have the patience or time for that."

"Please Master, I beg you to reconsider."

"No" Mill walks off and starts tidying his bunk.

The Droid pleads, "Do you know what it is like to have no personality? It is Emp"

–"Yes"

..."Okay, I will see to it."

The droid climbs up into a small hole, enclosed by a glass spherical window, and the ship falls silent, save the faint hum from the ship's engines. Mill takes out the star chart from his backpack, lays it over the cold ground, and sits atop it. Closing his eyes, he meditates on the mission, his new companions, and the meaning of the dreams that guide the path ahead.


	3. Chapter 3

Days pass, and the jedi do not speak to one another, save Mill asking Menyoo if the ship has any plates aboard, and Menyoo asking Mill to hum more quietly while he meditates. Mill was not aware he did hum, but trying not to hum disrupted his concentration, and so he forewent respecting Menyoo's request. A few days into the trip, Mill was meditating, once again, when the ship turns suddenly to one side, almost sending Mill out of his bunk. He awakes prepared for danger, but sees nothing outside the ordinary, dull interior. Menyoo lays in his bunk, a holovid sits wedged between his legs: the sound of an angry man shrieks through the device, ricocheting off the steal walls of the cabin.

"Are we close to arrival?" Mill asks, hoping to avoid the pilot droid, or bending down to look through the short window.

Without looking up from his device, Menyoo answers in a disinterested tone, "The ship started shaking a few hours ago and hasn't stopped since. We are probably off course."

Mill walks over to the small hole in the ceiling to ask the droid, but the hatch is closed, and knocking does not earn him a response. Mill then walks back to his bunk, leans over to pull fabric down over the hard surface, and sets his knees down, placing his hands over his kneecaps, to resume his mediation.

"Back to meditation huh?" Menyoo scoffs under his breath, "I thought you were a scholar, but you haven't written a single thing down since we left. Are you on vacation?"

Mill turns his head toward the young Jedi and stares for a moment before answering, "I am a practical scholar. I do not record my teachings, but instead embody them, so that a more traditional scholar may record the knowledge I internalize."

"Sounds like an excuse for bad writing," Menyoo retorts, "but I don't mean to criticize you, I just have never seen a jedi meditate so much before. I thought my Uncle was bad, but you're on a whole new level."

"Yes, and I can't help but have noticed you have not meditated a single time. Rather remiss for a new Jedi."

Menyoo looks up at Mill for the first time, "Fair, you got me. We'll call it a draw."

Suddenly the small pilot droid pops up from below a mess of rusted machine parts toward the end of the cabin. Mill closes his eyes, unscathed by the sudden noise, or the falling metallic debris; unlike Menyoo, who jerks his neck back in surprise. The pilot droid scuttles frantically across the floor, climbs up the steel wall, then by pressing his leg into a small metal panel, he opens the piloting chambers so he can commandeer the ship's controls.

"I think that means we're about there." Says Menyoo. The ship responds by slowing down, forcing everything in the cabin forward by a few centimeters. The nose then plummets down into space. A greenish hue reveals itself through the window toward their feet

Mill stays silent for several more minutes before getting up and collecting his belongings. He places a leather journal into his bag, then some rations, and finally the Sith book he got from the Jedi archives out of its box and places it in with his other belongings. He thinks to himself about the council members that helped him, the thoughts made him feel warm and content, before he buries them deep into his subconscious, reminding himself to avoid thoughts that create bonds. Bonds are dangerous for a Jedi. They lead men to covet and control, then jealousy, and eventually hate. It is dangerous for any man, but this path, for a Jedi, may lead them into the dark. TC-26 hangs down from the hatch in the ceiling, suspended by the hook underneath him, holding him to where it is cinched to a thin piece of metal just above the hole, "We are arriving planet side, secure yourself in your seats."

Mill looks around, unsure of what seats the droid is referring to. Menyoo sees him searching around, and lets him look around a few moments more before saying, "on the sides of the cot, there are buckles. Found them last night. Should keep us from getting thrown around the room."

Mill secures the strap in just enough time. The buckle clicks into the adjacent holder, then the ship jerks off to its right side. The chairs near the table slide into the wall, food in the cabinets shake around inside. A rumbling begins underneath the seats, then a sudden drop forces Mill and Menyoo into the air; the buckles catch them and pull them back down. The ship settles just as suddenly, causing Mill to collide with the hard bed, slamming his back against it in the process. He lays still for a moment and traces a burgeoning soreness that begins to creep over his shoulders and into his lower back. Mill groans quietly and thinks angry thoughts regarding the ship chosen by the Republic, and consequently, about the people who make these decisions.

Mill unbuckles and rolls off the cot. He lands on his feet and heads over to throw his pack over his shoulders. He stands waiting, facing the door, staring at it with his back turned away from Menyoo. Menyoo gets up casually, walks over, and raps on the pilot's small hatch. It opens, and the droid falls down to the floor, securing its fall with all four legs. "Where are we?" Menyoo asks it.

"We are in the Jungland bluffs, half a kilometer from the town of Aridity." The droid says unenthusiastically.

"Couldn't get any closer than half a kilo huh? I suppose I'll walk it." Menyoo motions toward Mill to open the door, but Mill remembers he needs to strip the cot first before he opens the door and spills the contents of his bed across the surface of the landing pad. He begins clearing off the sheet and asks the droid, "How far are the desolate falls?"

"No record of a desolate falls on my planetary companion map, sir."

Holding the "O" to accentuate his annoyance, he says, "Okay, what about the Jungland forest? How far from the nearest entrance?"

"The Jungland forests are all around us sir, there is no entrance. Although our sensors are reading large sources of water, but not for 20 kilometers. Sir."

"We can't land any closer to where I need to be? Say maybe halfway between the town and that water source?" Mill asks, clearly annoyed at the disparity.

"I'm sorry sir, I have coded instructions to take Master Keel to this location only. I am unable to deviate from my instructions."

"That's alright, it's just a little out of the way. I'll have to find alternate passage. Menyoo, give me the credits chit."

"No way" Menyoo protests. "this was given to me to complete _my_ mission. You are a tag-a-long. I don't mind you on the ship, but this is interfering with my mission. I may need this for something in town."

"I am a Jedi Master, you a newly knighted Jedi, I have suffered your disrespect enough. I have a greater need for the chit, and you know the circumstances for which I could not get my own."

"Fine, take the chit. But the appeal to authority, coming from you, means nothing. I know how you are with the council... and other respected Jedi."

Master Kandor stays silent, realizing the effect he could be having on the youth. He hits the button to open the ship's main door. As his bunk raises over his head, the planet opens up before him. He grabs the chit out of Menyoo's hand, nods to him, then steps off the platform onto a soft pink surface. The ground gives way to his weight slightly, before letting his foot settle into its own space. It felt like a memory-plastic surrounding his foot. He could feel the soft material curling up around his ankle. The surface curves down into an increasingly wide path, surrounded by thick tree trunks and loose, hanging branches. He could only see the brown of the tree trunks and open space around it, which tells him they are in the air. He turns back to look at his ship, and realizes just how far up he is. Straight ahead into the open air, ash falls lazily down toward the tops of trees 100s of meters below. A crimson red sky sits shyly in the background, dotted by the falling ash like freckles on a nervous face. Thick clumps of massive grey-topped trees fill out a huge valley that sprawls out below for as far as he can see. Mountainous ridges surround the valley, and massive pink, bell shaped flowers with impossibly thick stocks hang over the edges, dangling as if weighted down by their own petals, yet apparently strong enough to hold the weight of a ship.

He focuses his eyes into the far distance and sees an occasional flash break through the layers of floating ash. Menyoo steps off the ship and tells Mill, "I should only be a day, but to be safe, say two days and we meet back on the ship. After three days and no word, I leave." Menyoo begins walking down the pink trail toward thick brush."

"Wait!" Mill yells, "I need more than two days. It may take me two days just to find the spot, then I have to do my research. I require at least a weak."

"No can do, I have to get medicine to sick people, and I'm their only hope. The longer the delay, the more people that die. I told my Uncle you could come along only if you did not get in my way, so two days."

Mill says the only thing he can manage while actively concealing his anger, mustering a severe "No." The two stare at each other for several moments, before Menyoo breaks the contest, "five days" he says, then continues walking down the descending flower peddle. Mill takes in a deep breath, then walks over to the edge, looking for a quick and safe way to get into the valley impossibly far below him.


	4. Chapter 4

Menyoo walks down the petal until he reaches a narrow bridge made of thick vines, tightened and tied together, running perpendicular to his feet. He looks left and right, but can only see the trees that the vines come from. Unsure where to go, he steps onto the vines. His weight forces them down to a sharp bend as they stretch several meters down, bringing him along. The weighted fall continues until the vines are caught by a metal clamp that fastens around them when they reach it.

Ahead, a platform made of the same vines, but much thicker, is woven together by thin brown fibers to form a ground made of the intersecting vine bundles, atop which a small town has established itself. Thatched huts were built around thick trees that enclose the small town, lining both ends of the platform. The small vine walkway runs several meters in front of him before forking out into two directions. A great tree stands in the middle of the fork, providing more vines for the ground, and supporting several huts that run vertically up the tree. The huts are held together, and made accessible, by more vines, forming both the surface they were built on, and a staircase that leads up to each hut. A pungent synthetic scent drifts through the air intermittently, causing Menyoo to try breathing less often. The town is lit by a faint dirty light, reddish-brown, that breaks through the nets of a canopy tied far up in the air to protect the town from something— likely the falling ash outside.

There are two primary species in the town. One is a towering, thin organism, of which most are a dull yellow—but some features blotches of green. Out of their heads hang small, purple tubes that look like sea coral. The tubes wave in the air as the people walk about. Most of them wear thin, ripped fabrics made of matte and dirty colors, greys and blacks. Each one wears long pants made of thick material that wrap around their feet. A few have piloting gear on them, but most of them look like poor villagers; although, it is hard to tell within foreign societies what wealth looks like, or if there is any wealth to be had.

The other species are outnumbered by the first, and Menyoo recognizes them easily. They are the Makurth. A Saurian species often employed as gangsters and bodyguards, at least that is how Menyoo had met them before. They are green and have long-reptilian faces, with a dome snout and thick leathery skin. Four horns protrude from the sides of their face—two point down, the other two point up—complimented by a mouth full of sharp teeth that add to their fearsome appearance. They are about the height of Menyoo, which means they too are about a meter shorter than the other species trundling about the town.

Menyoo is supposed to meet with a female Ho'Dun named Valett, and concludes that a Ho'Dun must be the other species he sees inhabiting the arboreal village. He begins walking down the platform, being mindful of the thin patches of open air between the vine bundles underneath him. As he walks, he feels stared at, aware of the other species watch as a newcomer steps into their domain. The presumed Ho'Dun are much more secretive with their glances; The Makurth stare brazenly, not taking their long, curved eyes off of him until he steps by them—inducing an increasingly prevalent anxiety for each Makurth places them at his back.

Unsure of where to go, he walks toward the tree in the middle, hoping he can spot a friendly native to point him in the right direction. The Makurth appear too antagonizing for him to talk to, the Ho'Dun too skittish. Getting his translator ready, he walks aimlessly around looking for a communal area: a center, shop, anything. He realizes the huts around the encircling trees are homes, and not to be entered. Many of them feature thin wires that run horizontally across the entrances. The huts running up the length of the central tree have signs hanging outside of their tall, cut out entrances, so he assumes they are shops and decides to start there first.

Walking up the vine staircase, he is surprised to find it sturdy with no give. As he walks up to the first shop, he notices a second story warped around the tree. The vines continue both around the outside of the building, up to the next shop, and through the building leading up to the second story of the first shop. He walks in to see a small counter with a Ho'Dun behind it, sitting with a small cup, and a colorful, geometric puzzle in front of him. He places his long fingers into small holes and moves the pieces around each other at an impressively fast speed. After a second, he stops and concentrates for a moment, before doing so again. Menyoo watches a few rounds before the Ho'Dun looks up at him, "Conju Awasha." Menyoo just shakes his head, "ee… Piftul elgoumash?" Menyoo begins getting the translator out, when the shopkeeper points his fingers into the air and says clearly, "up."

Menyoo nods, and begins up the vines leading to the second story. Several Makurth walk around the shop, with woven baskets full of colorful fruit around their arms. A few hum peacefully to themselves. Bits of fruit stick out of the teeth that line the left side of one's mouth, which makes the Makurth seem playful, and a lot less scary. A small hand rail made of solid wood blocks off the ledge leading down to the first story. The entire wall of the store is the towering tree that the shop is fastened to. Vibrantly colored fruit hang directly off of it.

The most impressive part about the shop is the fruit itself. It is as long as Menyoo's arm, and half a meter wide. It has an eggshell white skin, with lines of pink running horizontally across the fruit in parallel lines from top to bottom. The top of the fruit is bright red. Juice trickles slowly down from where the fruit connects to the tree. Menyoo curses Mill for taking his credits chit, but thinks fondly about the responsibilities of a Jedi that allow him to visit new and beautiful places like this. Menyoo walks back down the vines and turns his translator on to ask the shop keeper about the botanist he is looking for.

"Hello, my name is Menyoo-Keel. I am looking for a Ho'Dun named Valett, she is a botanist in this town. Do you know where I can find her?" The Ho'Dun looks gravely at Menyoo, then around shop to see if anybody is listening, before aggressively saying,

"Get out of my shop! Valett was banished long ago. The forest floor is where you can find her body. Go back to wherever you came from!" Then once again, the Ho'Dun looks up toward the top of the vine staircase to see if anybody is there.

Menyoo notices the Ho'Dun playing with something underneath the counter, and grasps the lightsaber under his tunic, just in case he will need it. He turns slowly around from the Ho'Dun, before the Ho'Dun begins again, "Do not ask anybody else about her either, or risk being attacked on the spot!" Menyoo looks back around again to find that the shop keeper had turned around, busily cutting into some fruit from upstairs. In place of where the puzzle on the counter was, is a small metallic object in the shape of a diamond wrapped inside another diamond. Menyoo says, "Sorry to bother you," and grabs the object, thinking it to be a clue. Leaving the shop, he walks out onto the staircase and descends down to the town below. Unsure of where to go next, or what to do with the object, he walks around the town looking for the next place to begin his search.

He thinks about the Ho'Dun's words: "do not ask anybody else," there must be a reason. He takes the left fork and follows it for 15 minutes before coming to another large tree. Shops line this one as well, but water falls freely from the back end out of a small spout in the tree. Children play under the water, and old villagers watch with vicarious grins from benches sculpted out of vines in a small square facing the play area. In the center of the stone square is a symbol: a diamond connected and contained within another diamond. Menyoo walks to the center of the square and stands in it. He analyses everywhere around him, looking desperately for another clue. Finally, past several huts on the right side, he sees a tattered hut with a tangle of branches ten meters up the tree to which it is conjoined. The branches warp around each other to form a perfect diamond.

He walks down to the hut and peers inside. It looks squalid and abandoned, especially compared to the others. He looks around him; others watch him furtively. He walks off for a few moments until it seems nobody is paying attention, then quickly jumps into the hut. No wires protect the inside, he is able to step directly into the center of the hut with no issue. It is too dark to see anything inside, so he pulls out his lightsaber and emits the blade. He continues his search for clues through the deep, blue glow. He finds against the back wall another diamond shape, this one carved into the back of the hut where it lays against the tree.

Menyoo feels around, but cannot figure out what he is supposed to do next. He looks around the ground, but finds nothing but a fallen over table, and two small pots in the corner where the hut wall meets the tree. He walks over to the pots and peers inside. There is a small round metal piece weighing about two kilograms, but smaller than the palm of his hand. He holds it up to the diamond cut into the tree, and he feels a magnetic pull from the other side. He lets it go, and it forces its way slowly into the tree, the tree's fibers separate organically around the impending metal like sinew for a slow bullet. Once passing through entirely, Menyoo hears it fling to the opposite wall of the trunk on the inside, and the hole remains in the side of the tree.

_It must be hollow_, Menyoo thinks to himself. He reaches his hand in through the hole and begins forcing his body into the tree, starting with the opening for his arm. It parts itself around his pressure, and opens up to him as he pushes his body inside. He places his foot down to a solid, but soft material, avoiding putting weight down until he knows what he is stepping on.

Once his leg is finally through, he distributes his weight, and realizes it is another vine, like the one he came down on from the flower pad the ship landed on. He whispers to himself, "Believe in the force, it won't wrong you again," and places his full weight down. The vine drops out from below him. He plunges down the hollow center of the tree, closing his eyes and doing everything he can not to scream on the way down. He falls for what seems like a full minute before he begins feeling the vine again, a comforting pressure pushes back up against his foot, increasing in resistance, until he slows to a complete stop. Upon reaching the ground, he can hear in the pitch black another metal clamp grab the vine under his foot. The vine is much thinner than when he began his fall. The tree has an arm sized opening at the bottom too. He puts his arm through the hole and begins pushing through the wall of the tree once again, hoping not to meet another fall—or worse.


	5. Chapter 5

He steps out into a room about five meters wide. It extends farther into the room than he can see; partially due to several large cases hindering his sight. A column of large glass containers runs along both sides, and a third down the middle, making two aisles to walk down on either side of the middle column. Plant samples and miniature ecosystems are contained within the sets of glass. Some containers are small and hold a single plant, some are several meters long and have several different plants inside. The soil in most of the cases is full and densely populated by living things, climbing over one another and burrowing into the mass of small bodies. A few have shallow water instead, or are entirely aquatic. Bright strips of artificial lights run along the upper edges of the containers, illuminating the environments contained within and providing necessary nutrients. A single vine runs down the center of the ceiling above the center column. Unlike the others, it gives off a soft green glow that dimly lights the room. Shutters line the walls behind the glass cases. Hiding what, Menyoo does not know.

Leaning over a desk, against the wall a few meters up the right aisle, is a yellow Ho'Dun with green specs sprinkled over her face. She has a lab coat hung over her lengthy body, and special gloves on her hands that look to provide her better control for the precise movements needed in lab work. Her long body is curved awkwardly to make it so that she is close enough to see below her, but not too far as to push herself against the shutters directly ahead. Her neck is tilted even further down, and off to one side, studying Menyoo. Menyoo, unsure of what he walked into, says quickly, "Hello! I am in peace, and looking for a Ho'Dun who I think is you."

"And what is the name of the Ho'Dun you seek young traveler?" The Ho'Dun replies in a friendly, but reluctant tone.

"Valett. Are you Valett?"

"You are the Jedi they sent. Hello, yes I am Vallet. Pardon my caution, I don't get many visitors at this hour. Please sit, and I will bring you the device."

Menyoo walks a little further into the lab. Peering into the glass environments, he noticing things he did not before: all sorts of creatures hidden in the glass containers. One scene showcases a large reptile blended into a small tree. Menyoo watches as it leaps onto the back of a large beetle. In another, a large green plant, with small perforations in its stigma, releases a yellow gas. Once it makes contact with the bugs scramble over one another underneath it, they slow to an indolent crawl. The Ho'Dun returns with a small silver sphere, closed over itself in two pieces. "The vaccine you seek. I only have one batch. The others will have to be replicated on Mygeeto. I shall supply you with ample ingredients required from Moltok, the rest of the ingredients they should have on Mygeeto"

"Thank you. I was admiring your collections, are they for research?"

"They are, young Jedi, and many more I have. This entire room acts as both a lab and observation space. The plant life on this planet is abundant, and the bio-diversity is outside the limits of most other systems in the galaxy. Have you gotten to see the planet in its entirety, or have you stayed among the trees?"

"I landed just an hour ago. So no, I have only been in the trees."

"Ahh, so you have seen only a small selection of the environments Moltok has to offer. Look here." The Scientist pulls the blinds up from behind her desk, revealing a glass window staring out at the bases of several massive trees Menyoo was atop just minutes prior. The base of the trunks are thick, some as large as ten meters across. Their roots curve out of the ground in random places, revealing their girth, and plunge back into the ground below, like brown sea serpents in a body of warring waves. The ground is covered in the same soil featured in many of the glass containers, small beads of dirt are outnumbered by mounds of bugs crawling over one another. Green vegetation hangs off the bottoms of the trees near where the roots begin, and farther in the background, Menyoo spots some varieties of colored plants as well.

"The entire planet is like this?" Menyoo asks, thinking to himself how funny it is that Mill will have to cross through literal fields of bugs to get to his precious waterfall.

"No, not at all. This is one of the lower layers of the planet. Many layers of the ecosystem exist over one another, especially in this region of the planet. The bottom most layer is just below this one, and is essentially a region of deep cuts in the planet. Rocky cliffs and large carnivorous plant life await scraps that fall from above. The next layer, this layer, is where the bases of trees can be found, alongside a plethora of bottom feeders who provide the nutrients that sustain the enormous abundance and size of Moltok's plant-life and vegetation. A layer above this is where you can find another set of rocky cliffs. Many sections of the planet are off-set by large changes in verticality between differing sections of plant life, and these layers can both stack over one another, and exist beside other layers. The top layer of the planet is the arboreal layer, which you come from. This is where the bulk of civilization lives, as it is far too dangerous for us to live in any of the other environments. I risk my life every time I collect a new sample."

Menyoo, still staring out into the forest, asks her "Do you know of a waterfall nearby? About 20 kilometers into the forest perhaps, known to be dark, gloomy, scary."

"I do not, but going 20 kilometers into the forest would surely kill anybody who attempts it."

"Good to know." Menyoo says, now starting to worry about Mill's trip, and further concerned he may have to go after him if he does not make it back within the five days. After looking around in the cases for a while longer, an awkward quiet persists between the two of them. Vallet goes back to working on what she had on her desk when Menyoo first entered, while Menyoo begins to walk back to the trunk he entered from. He says as he walks away, "Thank you again for the sample. I will relay the information when I get to Mygeeto." Vallet interrupts him, "you should not leave just yet. It has only been a little while since you entered, and you disappeared without a trace. They will be suspicious, and this lab cannot be found."

Menyoo stops in his tracks, then turning back to the scientist, says, "I was wondering why the shop keeper was so aggressive when I asked about you. Why are you so infamous among the community? He helped me get here, but it was clear he did not want to be associated with you. What did you do?"

"I did not _do_ anything, it is what I continue to do. Research and studying the way I do has been outlawed for a long time here on Moltok. Sometime hundreds of years ago, we descended from the trees to live among the lower levels of the forests. When this happened, we went into a manufacturing phase. Large-scale mining operations, deforestation, factories, and other such things. Our efforts of land remanagement backfired, and the local fauna fought back. We became pestiferous, many died. We went back to our previous arboreal lifestyles and cured ourselves of the harmful parasites. We are able to freely study the local fauna still, but it is limited to what is found above, as is the use of technology on the planet. If they knew about the operation I was running, or that I worked close to the forest floor, I would be banished to the forest floor, and I would likely die within days. I had one instance of my research being discovered already, and that is why I am hidden away." Vallet holds a stern gaze with Menyoo before finishing her explanation, "Excommunication is bad enough."

"Wow, I am sorry to hear all that. But at least you still have friends. Like I said, I was led here by a clue left for me by the shop keeper."

"Yes, Palter, he is an odd fellow. He brings me food at night, and I pay him handsomely. Very cautious that one, but he knew to expect you, alongside a few others. I also think he enjoys the drop through the tree. Sorry by the way, it can be unsettling the first time."

Menyoo thinks of his options, and decides to stay with the Ho'Dun, not wanting to compromise her position, nor get himself into trouble. The two spend some time together in a comfortable silence. Menyoo explores the lab, meanwhile Valett works at her desk. Several hours pass before it is well into the night, and an appropriate time for Menyoo to leave. As he departs, he is left with instructions once again.

"Ensure it gets to the primary coordinator of the quarantine efforts before departing Mygeeto. If you find yourself in the quarantine zone, or possibly coming in contact with somebody who has the virus, wait until more of the vaccine is created, and inoculate yourself before leaving, lest you subject the rest of the galaxy and spread it even farther."

Just realizing now that it was a virus and not a typical disease, Menyoo tries to solicit more information from Valett. "Wait, so is this a cure for the people infected? Or is this just to prevent others from being affected? I thought I was picking up a cure?"

Valett stares down at her desk quietly for a couple seconds. She then says, "It is a cure." Another pause sustains, "If it can be properly contained, and the vaccine administered, then those not infected yet will not be, and it will not spread to other creatures, thus killing the virus. But, for those already infected, no this will not help them. And, probably nothing else will either."

"So we are closing off the area, giving the vaccine to everybody, then waiting for the infected to die. Not actually helping the sick people?" Menyoo asks, clearly agitated by this new development.

"It may seem callous, but there is no other way. I considered a cure first, but am unable to secure a sample of the virus, nor am I willing to have one sent to me. It could create a pandemic for the entire planet, and any other system that comes in contact with us. We cannot allow it, so this is the solution for now. Maybe somebody will figure out a cure on Mygeeto, but this is all that I can do from here."

Another round of silence ensues while Valett stares down at her desk nervously. Menyoo wonders to himself whether Valett did this out of concern, or for credits. Once Menyoo was sure there was nothing more he could do, he went back to the tree he used to get to the lab.

"Please do place the magnet back into the pot when you get back up, I'll undo the clamp from down here and send you. Thank you jedi, and good luck on your mission."

Menyoo stays silent as he clambers back into the tree. Freshly agitated, he presses his shoulder into it first, trying to get out of the room before he has an outburst. Maybe it is not her fault, he thinks to himself, but he knows she could still try, and cannot help but feel she gave up on those people, or worse—fulfilled a lucrative contract.

Once inside, he hears a loud machine begin churning just outside of the hollowed-out tree that holds him. Slowly, he is carried up the trunk by the vine underneath. Once he gets to the top, he takes the magnet from the back of the tree, begins pushing through again, and upon entering back into the hut, places the magnet back into the pot before stepping outside.

It is night, the red light from before has faded, and the platform that was full of villagers is now dead silent. The town is empty, except for a couple of Makurth he spots on his march back through the dark. Unsure of how he feels about the new developments, he considers meditating once he arrives back on the ship, and thinks further about how he should spend his next few days while Mill fights his way through the deadly forest.


	6. Chapter 6

Having walked through most of the night, Mill is feeling tired and ragged. The walk itself was bad enough, but the thick vegetation slowed his pace, and the falling ash troubled his breathing. The worst part of the excursion, thus far, has been the all-encompassing darkness that invades the planet come nightfall. Even for a Jedi, who has trained to trust his instincts over his perceptions, he cannot help but feel invariably anxious as he brushes up against the overgrown forest that hugs the side of the steep cliff. He must trust his intuition to guide his every step along the only viable, yet perilously narrow path, concealed from his eyes by a cloak of black that hides both the mysterious forest, and sheer drop, that surrounds him. _I will have to set up camp soon,_ he thinks to himself. Before departing, he saw from the landing flower a rocky crag some kilometers out with what appears to be a natural stone staircase leading below. If he walks too far, he will have to retrace his steps in the morning, and he may not have a proper angle to see whether it is behind or ahead of him come morning.

The wooded area to his side is thick and uncharted, so he decides he would be safer in the trees. He jumps as far up as he can and grabs the first branch he comes into contact with. Working his way up the tree, he climbs another couple meters, before grabbing something cold and bulbous. He quickly lets go, hugs the tree, then yanks himself around its circumference, hoping to avoid anything he may have agitated. Too late: what feels like a wet and soft rope grabs his wrist and pulls him toward itself. Mill, not wanting to discover what he had grabbed, kicks at the tree and pushes off from the trunk, putting distance between both his attempted captor, and the tree that held him. He whizzes through the air until he hits another tree several meters out and begins falling. Desperately grasping for branches, he falls for a couple of seconds, until he closes his eyes and reaches out with the force. Trusting in it to find him a branch, he hits two with his shoulders, breaking them with his weight, until he feels a sudden compulsion to grab toward his left. He reaches and closes his palm around a thick branch. It slows him, but he loses his grip. He fears he will fall again, but the branch offsets his trajectory, sending his legs forward. They settle softly on an adjacent branch.

He lets in a deep breath, and holds onto it until he thinks of nothing. Letting it out, he opens his eyes, to little effect in the treacherous black, and leans against the tree. Hoping the night and day cycle are not too far apart on this planet, he settles into a comfortable stance and closes his eyes, resting his mind and body for some time.

Mill, having spent a lot of time in a state of meditation, has learned to program certain functions into his meditative states. In some cases, relying on his own biological clock to wake him at certain times, or in other cases, to foreign noises, dangers, or sudden changes in temperature. He focuses his mind on the presence of sunlight to wake him, and allows his mind to drift into nothingness. His body relaxes, but remains stiff enough to hold his place in the tree.

Several hours elapse before the faintest glimmer of light scintillates in the sky. Sporadically escaping the dome of falling debris, a ray of light hits Mill, waking him up to face the day. It is still too dark to start, so Mill begins climbing again, hoping to get to a vantage point from which he can amply plan out his next steps. He climbs half the length of the tree, which puts him at a good aerial view, then awaits the sun to help guide him to where he needs to go next. As the starlight penetrates through the ash, he watches red light limn the valley hundreds of meters below. He admires the scene and finds peace in being awe stricken by the natural beauty of such an inhospitable place. The light creeps up the valley like a blanket being pulled off of sleeping children. Mill thinks about the forest coming to life, and with it, the opportunities the new day brings.

He shakes himself out of a stupor. That sense of peace he experienced was similar to the same peace he finds in meditation. But unlike the colorless expanse of nothing that awaits him in his concentration, he was greeted by the beauty of this foreign world. He then thinks back on some of his adventures he had as a young jedi. All of the spectacular places he traveled, the people he met. He was young and naïve then, much like young Menyoo now, but he never allowed himself to enjoy the worlds for what they were. Instead, he was taught to find danger in the most innocent of places, and to trust nothing in the world of senses. If he had a more open mind, maybe he would have never secluded himself in the first place. He decides he would think on this point later, and begins his search for the rocky staircase.

He spots it just a kilometer or so ahead of where he had stopped to rest, and applauds himself for having the sense to stop before going too far. He starts climbing down after surveying the path below, skeptical of its safety. As he descends the trunk, he looks up to grab a hold for his hand, and sees far up in a nearby tree a very large plant with a spherical green head and protruding stems that wobble like eels. Beautiful petals of regal purples and blues decorate the center, hanging from the base of two uttermost leaves are small vine-like tentacles. Mill is sure this is the creature that grabbed him after he grabbed it, but he was not expecting it to be a plant. It is motionless and vapid now, but he knows that if he watches long enough, he would see an animal fall into the same predicament he himself did just hours ago. He makes a note to be extra cautious of the vegetation and works his way down.

He makes his way to the staircase, noting just how narrow the path was that he had walked the night before. Once he reaches the stone flight, he descends it, heedful of his footing, and hoping the structure reaches the forest floor. During his hike down, he recognizes features of the staircase that suggest it is not natural like he had thought previously. The sides are carved out, not naturally shaped. Furthermore, there are noticeable areas of stress under the stone, which tells Mill that there are abutments just below his feet that keep the structure secured against the vertical cliff it leans against. After an hour of hiking down, taking each step with extreme caution, he finally reaches a drop and can see the ground below. The drop is a full ten meters. He looks back up at the structure and wonders to himself why somebody went so far as to make a bridge from one elevation to the next, but then stopped just short of reaching the ground.

Seeing no other way, he finds a footing in the rocks, drops his bag down to the floor below, and starts climbing down to it. He gets half the way down, then drops, trusting he will still be able to roll out of an injury, even in his older age. He lands to a loud _Crunch_ and rolls as he had planned. Instead of rolling onto his feet, he stays on his back, worried he broke something during the drop. He doesn't feel pain anywhere, his legs and arms are bent the way they should be. He lifts his leg to looks down under his back and sees something crawling on this thigh. He wipes it away, and as he refolds his arm, sees something long pinching his inner forearm. He shakes his arms, but sees something black on his shoulder in his peripheral. Confused, he focuses down on the ground, and realizes the entire ground is a pit of assorted insects and worm-like creatures. Mill lets out a sound he has not heard from himself in years and jumps to his feet, igniting a chorus of crunches where he lands. He begins running, further rousing the sound of cracking shells under each heavy step. He gets to a short sagging tree and jumps on top of it. Once again, he controls his breathing with exercises, and watches as his footprints get filled in by the mass of bugs around them.

Mill takes a lengthy piece of bark from the tree underneath him and presses it into the ground. The layer of creatures is about five centimeters thick. He is not particularly afraid of bugs, but the idea of stepping into the wrong spot and falling into a hole filled with them makes him hesitate. He manages to alleviate his fear and steps back down onto the ground below. Not wanting to leave mass piles of death in every stride, he wades his foot through the pile during each step, hoping they will scurry before he places pressure down. The sound of cracking is cut in half, and pleased with these results, he continues his journey through the forest, heading for the dead center.

He kept the sensor location for the body of water, and follows a path best he can through a maze of dangerous plants and dense trees. Things wax and wane in and out of his favor for the rest of his walk. First, he comes across diverging paths, one had less plant life than the other. He took note of the variety of plants, and how many of them possessed instruments for killing or dissolving things alive. He thought he would avoid danger by taking the less populated path. An exception to his logic reveals itself when a plant above him drops a sticky drool down as he walks underneath. It began burning as it ate through his clothing, so he had to remove his robe and leave it, fearing what it would do if it reached his skin. The disrobing became a relief as the day's heat intensified— a far cry from the temperature drop experienced at night. There was also a positive development as the lighting changed a few minutes after dismounting the stairs. The reddish light that bled through the sky originally, changed to a softer, yellow light as the day trudged on. This was more comforting for him because he has lived under a yellow sun most of his life.

The final undulation came as he walked into a small clearing (and still piles of bugs.) He checks his sensor and is delighted to learn he is only a few kilometers from the water source that the ship had picked up. It didn't feel like 20 kilometers, he thought to himself, thinking about how hectic it has been since last night to the present. He saw a hill toward his left and headed there first to scope out the remaining path. As he did, he heard shaking, followed by a loud crack from behind him. He turns, but sees nothing. Turning back to face the hill, he listens closely for any sounds of movement, or at least movement from any creatures larger than those making the subtle scratching noises all around his feet. He did not hear anything, and so continued his trek. As soon as he had stepped down, he heard again the trees shake angrily like before. He began feeling unnerved, and started in toward the noise. "If anything is there, come out. Hiding will do you no good."

He rounds a large tree and peers to his right to find a great, long insect, many times larger than the rest. It had two pincers sticking out of the sides of its mouth, and many small legs underneath it. A long metallic-black body with thick carapace slithers in awkward angles as the creature works its way halfway up a tree. Its razor-sharp legs dig into the hard wood, its yellowish underside appears to be soft and fleshy. He takes note of this potential weakness and creeps backward. As he steps back, it seems not to notice his movements, until he makes one particularly loud crunch under foot. The head of the creature curves around the other side of the tree and fastens its small beady eyes directly on Mill. Without hesitation, Mill breaks into a dead sprint toward the hill. The monstrosity leaps off the tree, sailing into the air, and disappears into cover above.

Mill hears limbs breaking from above. Small bits of green float down all around him. He knows it's right above his head. At one point it pounces down about a meter and a half to his left and thrusts the back end of its body toward him. Mill turns to his side and leans back; the creature misses him by just centimeters. He continues his sprint, reaching the hill and racing up it. The hill curves around a small depression in the ground and leads into a wider path cut into the forest. He hears a monstrous clicking noise taunt him from above. A loud crack follows; the beast drops down from directly over Mill.

He lunges underneath a fallen long and secures himself where it had snapped off. The creature hits the log at full force. The log pierces the creature in the third abdomen below its head. It lets out another loud click, this one sad and acrid. Mill resumes his escape, and the creature follows, this time staying to the ground. As the hill climbs up further, the layer of bugs thins out below him, until he is running on bare ground. The dry and brittle dirt crumbles like cement. He reaches the end of the hill and stops to avoid possibly jumping to his death. He turns to face the creature head on, but it had stopped a few meters behind. It writhes its body defensively, but does not move forward any farther. Looking up over Mill's shoulder, it lowers its stance and stays in position, waving back and forth on its lower half, but still not advancing. Mill stares back until it eventually turns and scurries back into the forest.

Mill falls back on his butt, excited to have ground beneath him that is not moving, and takes a short break. He turns to look at what frightened the creature. A hanger's length away stands a large factory taken over by plant life. The building is at least five stories high, and although it is hidden by the forest where it had reclaimed its land, he can tell it extends deep into the brush. Two thick, meaty vines hug the front of the building, giving it the appearance of being consumed by some giant, sylvan squid. To Mill, the most important feature of the building is the water pouring out of two large broken windows in the front. The streams combine halfway down the drop making a single waterfall in the center. Mill reaches out with his mind to examine the presence of the environment and senses solidarity and strength; a sepulchral façade hides more insidious trappings inside. Mill has arrived at his destination, and he is unsure what he should do next.


	7. Chapter 7

As Mill walks toward the pooling water, he takes note of three changes in the environment. First, the density of bugs on the forest floor decreases as he nears the water's edge; second, any tree within 30 meters of the water is dead; and third, he feels a loss of control over his thoughts and feelings as he nears the source of the small pond. A terrible smell overtakes him while he approaches the base of the falls. The loud rushing in his ear makes it difficult to hear, and a nervous energy suffuses through his body. He looks all around him, but the forest is still. This makes him more nervous, the entire walk through the forest was teeming with life, from small movements in the trees and bushes, to heavy steps in the distance. Here, the area surrounding the rushing falls is silent and unnaturally still, even the air is stale and immobile. He closes his eyes and feels for any living things, but senses nothing around him. He feels boxed in like his senses are hitting a wall constructed around him. He walks to the side of the waterfall and can see a hidden room behind the curtain of rushing water. He leans his back against the exterior of the factory and slides behind the falls, careful not to touch the water, fearing unforeseeable effects.

He slips into what appears to be an old garage. There was enough space to fit several vehicles side by side, and the walls are lined with equipment and tools for working on vehicles that were once stationed here. There are no vehicles remaining, so the center of the garage is mostly empty space, with the exception of old tarps strewn along the floor and a fallen rolling cabinet laying where the left-most vehicle would be parked. Mill walks toward the back of the garage and finds a few boxes with food inside, but it is hard to tell whether it is old and perished, or recently stored by occupants who are out. Mill sees no access points to the rest of the factory, so he feels comfortable enough to set up a temporary camp. If there were to be trouble, it could only come in one way.

Mill grabs both tarps and layers them on top of one another, knowing full well he will be spending a lot of time sitting in meditation, and opting for more comfort. It only took Mill the night before and one day to get to the waterfall, so he can spare two days of work before he should head back, giving him a day of travel back to the ship. He contends with the idea of only spending one day in the garage, and heading back the next day to be safe, but surely Menyoo would not leave him on the planet, even if he were to be a little late.

Mill then lays out any instruments he may need during his introspection, a journal and writing utensil, his lightsaber for quick defense—although it has been some time since he has had to use it— and the book on the Sith. As he pulls the sith book out of his bag, he feels a warmth over the skin bound collection, and considers leaving it outside. He places it by his other tools, takes one more cautionary look around the room, then closes his eyes and fades into a relaxed state, reaching out with the force like tendrils grabbing at energies surrounding him. He is sure this location is a dark-force nexus, he doesn't feel anything around him, no life or energy responds to his call. For the first time, he feels like he is blind with the force, unable to feel the world around him, cold and separated from it. He is unusually aware of his own presence. During meditation, thoughts concerning himself are supposed to melt away. Instead, he feels more in his own skin than he ever has before. His conceptions of the world appear in his thoughts like blueprints of inanimate things, like valueless symbols he must attach meaning to himself. Even thoughts of the council and his apprentice are impersonal, as if each person he thinks of is only a collection of experiences he has had with them, merely informing him of their functions and predispositions.

He opens his eyes, only seconds have passed, but the passage of time was agonizingly long for just a few fleeting moments. He immediately begins jotting down his experience. He writes about it not as a change in the force, but a change in mindset. The dark-force nexus provided him more of a philosophical stance than it did a beguiling temptation, as it had been described by many Jedi before. He himself has had his own experiences with the dark side, his own fight with the alluring powers it offers. This was different, or perhaps those experiences were different, and this was more real. After thinking on that a little longer, fits of paranoia take hold.

He feels tricked; the dark side hides its intentions well. This was just a first step down a dark path. It was winning his trust by appearing differently than he had been taught to expect. But what if this were the true nature of the dark side? Not to bring pain and death, but merely a stance toward the world that has been bastardized and vilified by the Jedi order. Then the Jedi were the ones who tricked him, by killing the parts of him that make him human, he becomes the perfect weapon against the dark side. He and all of the other Jedi. Then another flash of paranoia comes again like another layer of truth being revealed below the first, and he begins to feel he cannot trust his own thoughts. He decides then and there to not change anything about himself over the course of his study. He will analyze and report only, this is the only way he can protect himself from manipulation.

He gets up and walks around the garage. He feels sure that some form of treachery has taken hold of him, either now or in his past. He is afraid to go back to meditation, but knows he will not get a chance like this again. After a few minutes of reflection, he sits back into his position and closes his eyes once again, this time focusing on the dreams that led him to this location.

He can see again the same Holocron from before, a shiny black metal in place of the typical gold border of a jedi holocron. The radiant blue sides are replaced with a pulsating blood-red. It is suspended in the air and turns slowly from side to side. The room is divided just as it was before, his body blocking a line of golden light that bisects the room vertically, his shadow appearing equally in both the dark and light side of the room. In the past, he was unable to move. This time he can lift his arms and turn his head. He tries lifting his legs, and his joints unstiffen, reluctantly following his command.

He walks circles around the device watching it, unsure of how he ought to proceed, and unsure if it is he that provides the thoughts that come to him, or if he is merely interpreting ideas born from the dream. He lifts his arms and tries to unlock the holocron, a storage unit for data that can only be opened by use of the force. He tries to open it, but nothing happens. Frustrated, he reaches out to grab it, but before his finger makes contact with the device, he is ripped out of his meditative state.

He awakes to three Makurth standing in front of him, two of them are half a meter shorter and stand behind the one in the center. The leader flares his nostrils at Mill. His lips follow his nose, revealing a thick row of sharp teeth. He wields a large hammer made of woven wood, with a polished stone as a bludgeon, secured by interweaving fibers like a bird-nest protecting a deadly gem. He whirls the hammer at Mill's head, but Mill dodges it by rolling backward onto his feet. reflexively, Mill wills the force to retrieve his lightsaber. It lands into his palm and he ignites it for the first time in a decade, the blue blade extends a meter out toward the enraged reptilian. The leader runs at him, the hammer held high above his head. Mill rushes forward and cuts the hammer in half. Before he can slash down and cut his aggressor in two, the leader jumps a meter back and pulls a crossbow from behind his back.

A bolt is sent toward Mill's head, and he quickly evades to his right, strikes the bolt out of mid-air, then spins counter clockwise, grabs one of the younger Makurth, and holds the light saber blade to its throat. The older Makurth raises his bow in the air, then drops a knee down to show surrender. Mill, realizing what he has done, quickly releases the child and powers down his saber. _Was it the work of the dark side that made him act so aggressively?_ Mill wonders to himself. Feeling ashamed of his actions, he speaks to the Makurth in his native tongue, hoping the language on their homeworld is not different from how it is spoken off world, as Mill learned it. (roughly translated) ["I come peacefully, sorry to threaten, I am harmless.] The Makurth looks stunned that he is able to speak in Kurthian.

["Stranger, what do you call yourself?] The Makurth asks, surprisingly relaxed after the brutal encounter. ["Mill Kandor. I have come to study under this waterfall."] The Makurth grunts and nods, then grabs one of the children by the shoulder and starts walking out of the garage, the other follows. ["Wait! Friend, what do you call yourself? Do you live here?]

The Makurth turns back around all too casually, and responds ["Lone Father. Yes we do."] The Makurth begins walking out again, and Mill stops him again to ask more questions. This cycle of question, answer, walking away, and stopping, continues for the entirety of the conversation. The Makurth explains how they were citizens of the society above, but were banished for not following the laws. Mill learns that the factory was once part of an initiative to make the planet a manufacturing planet. The environment fought back against the unwarranted pollution, releasing toxins that made residents living on the forest floor sick. The sickness spread and both native species on the planet were in danger of becoming extinct. They fled back up the trees, and made strict laws to protect themselves from that ever happening again.

This Makurth, in particular, was arrested for continuing to use non-sanctioned technology, and was sent to the forest floor to die. He survived, and created a family with another discarded female. The Makurth made a home out of the old factory because the creatures of the forest avoid it. Mill also learned that the water that flows from the factory is poisoned, and infects anything it comes into contact with. Once Mill is satisfied with what he has learned, he asks the Makurth whether it is okay that he remains, ["you do not hurt us, yes you can stay."] Satisfied with that response, Mill does not bother to stop the family again as they step out of the garage.

Mill thinks about the factory and the polluted water. That would explain the eerie lack of life and decaying foliage surrounding the pond. He thinks about the dark side nexus and hypothesizes it may be the lack of life that led to its creation. "It makes sense", he says aloud to himself, if the light side of the force is dependent on the energy of living things, then the dark side of the force, as its antithesis, would be attracted to locations void of life. This gives Mill an idea. What if he meditates under the waterfall directly? It is risky, but it may be enough to progress his vision. If the Makurth would be willing to watch him while he meditates, he will try under the poisonous water. The Makurth is skeptical of his request, but agrees to watch him while he attempts the dream once more.

Mill walks to the edge of the garage opening and sits cross legged under the rushing water above. It is difficult for him to concentrate with the water forcing his head down, but he manages to drift into his dream state after several minutes of trying. He opens his eyes lazily and sees the same floating holocron ahead. Without hesitation, he immediately steps forward, this time lifting his leg with ease. He reaches out again, but an invisible force protecting the area around the holocron stops him from touching it. He reaches out with the force again, expecting to fail like last time. This time he feels it respond, an invisible force extends out of his fingers and grasps the intricate cube. The exterior pattern begins twisting and folding into itself, until eventually the center breaks open, and the holocron reveals its contents.

A red mist pours from the cube and drifts around the room. It hangs lazily in the dark, filling the space slowly. He sees some waft into the light side of the room. It sizzles and disappears before reaching the other side of the division. Mill, upon seeing the mist escape the holocron, had immediately closed his mouth to avoid breathing it in, afraid of what the mist would do to him if he inhales it. A fear grips him, a feeling of suffocation, as if he were drowning in the air, yet he is not even breathing. Feeling panicked, he lets in some air, and the mist follows a current down his throat.

Immediately, he feels burning in his lungs, as if they caught fire from the inside. He drops to his knees in pain, hacking and coughing, wishing he could rid himself of the horrible mist. The burning in his lungs spreads to his other organs, and his body locks in place, the idea of moving is inconceivable for Mill, as he focuses his entire being on the pain in his body. The burning spreads further into his limbs and he falls prostrate onto the ground. The gaseous flames seep into his blood and circulates through his body, like rapid fire electrical currents, seizing from him every movement he tries to make.

He closes his eyes and dwells on thoughts that Mill spent so long ridding himself of—anger, hate, disgust. He thinks of all the people who do not understand him, who ridicule him for his beliefs. Thoughts of the many gangsters he had to work with during his early days in the order make him feel physically sick. Vux Shike's scornful existence comes to mind next, and Mill cannot help but ball his fist in anger; his hate grows as he recalls the many tribulations faced at the hands of that incompetent pretender. Then his apprentice flashes before his eyes and Mill cannot help but feel pure disappointment, a feeling his guilt has suppressed for too long. As he stares down at the floor, the light in his peripheral drains from the room, and everything goes black. The pain subsides everywhere else but his lungs, highlighting the presence of a localized burning.

He awakes in the middle of the pond. His face is fully submerged; he struggles under the water, and fights to reach the surface. Alongside the burning, a pressure surrounds his lungs. They feel as if they will burst any second. He kicks and flails under the water, until finally his head breaks the surface. He grabs at the open water, slapping and pulling himself away from a current bent on bringing him back under. He fights to the edge and claws at the dry clumps of brittle dirt. He drags his pained body across the ground, coughing and spitting while digging his palms into his eyes to remove the pestilent water.

The Makurth comes running up from the water's edge yelling to Mill ["Are you okay! I saw you fall and got here as fast as I could. Are you okay!?] He leans down to grab his arm and help him up. The two young Makurth fill in around them to watch the scene unfold. Mill, unable to hold down a great anger, shouts back into the Makurth's face, "You were supposed to be watching me!" Without hesitation, he ignites his lightsaber and impales the stomach of the Makurth. His body slumps under its own weight and crumbles into the water. The children scream and run toward the trees. Mill, callous to the first kill, swipes diagonally at the slower of the two and only misses him by a couple centimeters. The second child grabs the first by his vest and pulls him along. They both scream and clumsily make their escape, sliding in the mud as they vehemently cry at the top of their lungs. Mill takes another step towards them, then the realization of what has happened dawns on him. He drops down to his knees and digs his palms into the ground. Hanging his head low, he remains in that position, afraid to move, save the occasional cough as the diseased water leaks out of the corners of his mouth. Tears creep from the corners of his eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

Mill remained slumped down for a significant period of time. He kept thinking to himself that he needs to get those kids, that they will not survive on their own, not in the forest away from the factory. Regardless, they also would not let him near them if he were to approach. They have only seen violence and death from him, why would they? He also thought about burying the Makurth, but he does not know their traditions, nor is he ready to admit what he has done. Instead, he sulks for the remainder of the day. Afraid of his emotions, he does not shed a tear or hit the ground in anger. He just stares down, afraid to allow time to pass. The light in the forest returns to an oppressive red, signaling dusk's approach.

Still uncertain of his next move, he strains to lift the Makurth over his shoulders, and trundles to the garage. He gets to the entrance, but sees no way to carry him in. There is not enough room for both of them to pass through at once. He leans the Makurth against the side of the entrance, then takes one of the tarps from the garage and places it over the body. He stands over the body silent, then manages a weak "I'm sorry," before entering the garage for the night. He stumbles over to the tarp with his supplies and drops into the center. Darkness falls and the temperature drops.

The entire night, he remains there still, in and out of sleep, silent, save the occasional cough when the feeling of water in his lungs resurfaces. The despondent Jedi has killed before, but never an innocent bystander. He only manages about an hour of sleep. No dreams or visions visit him, just black. It gets cold over the night, but he stays exposed, certain he will not feel warmth again for some time. He reasons sometime early morning that regret and stagnation is illogical, and he thinks about what he can do to be proactive. In these moments, he often turns to meditation, to become clear minded and goal oriented, or at least to get some rest. He does not trust himself to meditate, nor the evil place he lays in. He resolves to get through the night, work in the morning, then get back to the ship so that he can make sense of his thought and actions in a neutral space.

Red sparkles in the waterfall dazzle Mill's peripheral. Stacked, wavy sheets of differing reds limn the back wall of the garage. Mill recognizes morning and momentarily forgets where he is or what has happened. His repression of yesterday's events lasts only a few moments, the gravity of his actions weighs on his shoulders as he lifts his sore body from the hard floor. He staggers to the hole in the garage and puts his hand in the waterfall. It feels refreshing, but he is well aware of its tricks. It is still too dark to see clearly in the garage, and he is not ready to face the forest again. He walks back to his bag to get water and collect his thoughts.

His first inclination is to blame the evil ground beneath him. It cannot be coincidence that he has been in a dark-side nexus for his last two meditations, and he acted aggressively coming out of both of them. This does not rid him of blame. He searched for this location, and made the decision to study its effects. In a sick way, he has done just that, to the utmost degree. He cannot be excused on its account alone, but maybe he does not need to be excused, the man he killed was banished from society and presumed dead anyway. He removes that thought immediately. He was harmless and innocent, nobody deserves what happened to him. He thinks of the children once more, and his thoughts stay quiet, further grieving for them, knowing full well the fate that awaits them, or what has likely already transpired. The work of the dark side is evil. This he now knows firsthand. He wonders if this is a permanent fixture in his life, or if its effects will leave him once he leaves the factory. Was it the dream that made him act in that way? Or did the environment manipulate him? Was he used to create more death and destruction? He cannot stay here much longer, this is clear. Thinking on the dreams, he wonders about the holocron he saw.

He leans his chin against a closed palm, and rests his dead weight on his left arm, extended out to his side. It slides along the cold ground and lands on the book of the Sith. He feels an intense heat and lifts his hand quickly, the red light soaking into the shadows of the skin's creases gives it an evil visage. He touches it again with his finger tip and it feels normal: dry, rough, and cold. He lifts it onto his lap and lightly flips through its pages, looking for mention of a Sith holocron. The book's directory leads him to a chapter on "Sith Artifacts." Sixteen pages into the section, he finds a description and colorless photo of a Sith holocron. The object presented is marked similarly to a Jedi holocron, but is in the shape of a pyramid, not a cube. The writing underneath says the device is a pulsating blood-red with a death-black trim on its edges, just like the one he saw in his dream. What does it mean for the relic he dreamt of to have the structure of a Jedi's holocron, but the coloration of a Sith's?

Mill ponders the significance of this revelation. For one, he now knows the dreams were either delivered to him, or were products of the force, not a creation of his imagination; he did not know what a sith holocron looks like before now. Secondly, he must have used some of the dark side and the light side to open the holocron, this is the only way a respective holocron can be opened. He does know that by opening a sith holocron and jedi holocron beside one another, the two fuse, and grant the openers an answer to anything they wanted to know—a rare event since it requires cooperation between a Jedi and Sith. This holocron however was already fused, or was an amalgamation of the two, and did not contain information in the conventional way. Could it be the mist answered a question Mill had already asked?_ These questions warrant further investigation_, Mill thinks to himself. He closes the book and packs the camp into his bag. He cannot stomach food in his sensitive state. He decides instead to leave as soon as possible and make it back to the ship. Menyoo will be happy to leave early, and Mill would be able to meditate in a safe space, away from these falls.

Mill leaves the garage and sees the angle of the red light at a sharp decline. This means yellow light will break soon, a good start to his miserable trip back. He tries his communicator, hoping it will miraculously work, but as expected, it does not have a signal. He walks back over to the body he left over night and kneels down beside it. He repeats an apology under his breath and closes his eyes, spending a moment with him before leaving him in the forest. He feels terrible that he cannot bury him, but cultural burial rites is a sensitive matter. For one species, setting a fire ablaze sends them to their respective afterlife, in another, it may damn them to an eternity of pain. He gets up and sees in the distance two muscular legs in a deep squat, the rest of the creature is hidden behind a thick trunk. Mill leans his body sideways to see more, but the creature retreats farther behind the tree's cover, staying in a squatted position. Mill knows it is stalking the camp, most likely for the body of the Makurth. He cannot bare leaving him behind to be eaten, so he decides instead to drag him into the water and watches the body sink to the bottom. He says a prayer in Kurthian, unsure of whether they even have a god, then collecting his heavy bag, begins his long walk through the forest.

Mill knows he must reach the cliffs by night fall, not daring to spend the night in the lower levels of the forest. He keeps a steady pace, keeping the events of yesterday out of his mind the best he can. He has to take a deep breath before stepping back into the pile of rummaging insects. He plans to backtrack the route he initially took into the forest, keeping in a straight line in order to reach the cliffs edge first, then walk along the cliff wall until he reaches the stair case again. Today's walk is similar to the one from the other day, dangerous flora stalk from their zones, and sounds of animals all around him make a constant racket in the forest. Mill manages to make it half way to the cliffs without any trouble.

He traverses one path full of large yellow flowers that disperse yellow dust from the top when he walks nearby. He puts his ragged undercloth over his mouth to keep from breathing any of it in, then rushes across the four trees they are stationed under. He slows down after putting distance between him and them, the crunching below quiets to a persistent scuttling. He lets in a big breath and confidently walks forward. He feels something break against his leg. He looks down to find a thin white silk-like material had broken. He tripped something. Mill dashes away, hoping to abscond whatever threat is nearby. He makes it ten meters and feels something light snap against his leg again. Another meter and another wire breaks. He stops and draws his saber, holding it in a defensive guard, diagonal over his face. He steps back slowly to press his back against a tree, and walks a slow circle around it. As he makes his way around, he is pleasantly surprised to find nothing stalking. He retreats from the base of the tree, begins on his path again, then hears a loud shaking directly above. He draws his lightsaber up and sees a large purple blob falling toward his face, a bright blue sticking out the back of it, and an ugly orange creature standing over the purple monster's belly, accompanying it on the fall.

As the purple beast hits the ground, the orange predator rolls off of it, landing a meter in front of Mill. Menyoo, immediately jumping to his feet, begins dancing around and flicking his wrists at his body, trying to get any bugs off that may have latched on. Every hop he makes, loud squishes and cracks sound below him, which makes him jump higher and land harder. Mill watches this happen for entirely too long before Menyoo finally hops back onto the purple creature and makes a sound of relief. He looks up at Mill and says "You're alive, and lucky to see me. You're getting careless in your old age."

"What are you doing out here Menyoo? I thought you were gonna wait on the ship when you were done?"

"I was, but it didn't take long and… I got bored. So here I am. I wasn't sure if I would find you alive. Good thing I did find you, I am not sure you would have made it back."

Mill smirks, feeling this exchange to be friendlier than the ones before, "And I am not sure you will make it back. You seem too afraid of the ground to make the journey."

"That is why I traveled by tree, and intend to return the same way."

"Suit yourself." Mill walks back onto the trail, dipping his toes into each step before putting weight down, expecting Menyoo to crawl back into the trees. Menyoo surprises him, "I should have stayed on the ship after all," he grumbles under his breath, then steps out onto the forest floor after Mill.

The two make their way back to the ship together. Menyoo tells Mill what happened with the Ho' dun and about the development concerning the vaccine. Mill nods and walks silently. After a few moments, Menyoo asks Mill if he had learned anything. Mill stares ahead and remains silent, deciding how much he should share. "Do you know what brought me here Menyoo? Why I had to come here to study and nowhere else? What it is I study."

"Yes," the jedi responds slowly, "Uncle tells me you are here to study the force, and that this forest houses knowledge. Is there more to the mission than just that?" Mill lets out a weak "Mhm" and continues walking.

"And…" Menyoo holds the _n_, waiting for Mill to fill him in. "And just that young Menyoo, I have acquired information on the force. I will say no more until I am able to speak with near certainty. For fear of leading you astray, young and impressionable as you are." Menyoo stops and scoffs, but when Mill continues walking inattentively, Menyoo catches up and walks on in silence.

The two arrive at the stairs just before nightfall. They reach the steps by climbing an adjacent tree and jumping. They set up camp at the base of the steps, taking turns on guard duty, while the other rests. Mill, still unable to sleep after the whole ordeal, feigns sleeping so he does not alert Menyoo. Mill then takes watch and Menyoo sleeps. Mill thinks about whether he did the right thing withholding information from Menyoo. Mill wakes Menyoo once dawn breaks, and the two walk back to the ship, stale silence and cold regard persist the rest of the trip. Upon reaching the ship, Menyoo informs the pilot droid of their next destination. The rusty transporter trembles into the air and blasts off into space. Its destination: Mygeeto.


	9. Chapter 9

Mill remained slumped down for a significant period of time. He kept thinking to himself that he needs to get those kids, that they will not survive on their own, not in the forest away from the factory. Regardless, they also would not let him near them if he were to approach. They have only seen violence and death from him, why would they? He also thought about burying the Makurth, but he does not know their traditions, nor is he ready to admit what he has done. Instead, he sulks for the remainder of the day. Afraid of his emotions, he does not shed a tear or hit the ground in anger. He just stares down, afraid to allow time to pass. The light in the forest returns to an oppressive red, signaling dusk's approach.

Still uncertain of his next move, he strains to lift the Makurth over his shoulders, and trundles to the garage. He gets to the entrance, but sees no way to carry him in. There is not enough room for both of them to pass through at once. He leans the Makurth against the side of the entrance, then takes one of the tarps from the garage and places it over the body. He stands over the body silent, then manages a weak "I'm sorry," before entering the garage for the night. He stumbles over to the tarp with his supplies and drops into the center. Darkness falls and the temperature drops.

The entire night, he remains there still, in and out of sleep, silent, save the occasional cough when the feeling of water in his lungs resurfaces. The despondent Jedi has killed before, but never an innocent bystander. He only manages about an hour of sleep. No dreams or visions visit him, just black. It gets cold over the night, but he stays exposed, certain he will not feel warmth again for some time. He reasons sometime early morning that regret and stagnation is illogical, and he thinks about what he can do to be proactive. In these moments, he often turns to meditation, to become clear minded and goal oriented, or at least to get some rest. He does not trust himself to meditate, nor the evil place he lays in. He resolves to get through the night, work in the morning, then get back to the ship so that he can make sense of his thought and actions in a neutral space.

Red sparkles in the waterfall dazzle Mill's peripheral. Stacked, wavy sheets of differing reds limn the back wall of the garage. Mill recognizes morning and momentarily forgets where he is or what has happened. His repression of yesterday's events lasts only a few moments, the gravity of his actions weighs on his shoulders as he lifts his sore body from the hard floor. He staggers to the hole in the garage and puts his hand in the waterfall. It feels refreshing, but he is well aware of its tricks. It is still too dark to see clearly in the garage, and he is not ready to face the forest again. He walks back to his bag to get water and collect his thoughts.

His first inclination is to blame the evil ground beneath him. It cannot be coincidence that he has been in a dark-side nexus for his last two meditations, and he acted aggressively coming out of both of them. This does not rid him of blame. He searched for this location, and made the decision to study its effects. In a sick way, he has done just that, to the utmost degree. He cannot be excused on its account alone, but maybe he does not need to be excused, the man he killed was banished from society and presumed dead anyway. He removes that thought immediately. He was harmless and innocent, nobody deserves what happened to him. He thinks of the children once more, and his thoughts stay quiet, further grieving for them, knowing full well the fate that awaits them, or what has likely already transpired. The work of the dark side is evil. This he now knows firsthand. He wonders if this is a permanent fixture in his life, or if its effects will leave him once he leaves the factory. Was it the dream that made him act in that way? Or did the environment manipulate him? Was he used to create more death and destruction? He cannot stay here much longer, this is clear. Thinking on the dreams, he wonders about the holocron he saw.

He leans his chin against a closed palm, and rests his dead weight on his left arm, extended out to his side. It slides along the cold ground and lands on the book of the Sith. He feels an intense heat and lifts his hand quickly, the red light soaking into the shadows of the skin's creases gives it an evil visage. He touches it again with his finger tip and it feels normal: dry, rough, and cold. He lifts it onto his lap and lightly flips through its pages, looking for mention of a Sith holocron. The book's directory leads him to a chapter on "Sith Artifacts." Sixteen pages into the section, he finds a description and colorless photo of a Sith holocron. The object presented is marked similarly to a Jedi holocron, but is in the shape of a pyramid, not a cube. The writing underneath says the device is a pulsating blood-red with a death-black trim on its edges, just like the one he saw in his dream. What does it mean for the relic he dreamt of to have the structure of a Jedi's holocron, but the coloration of a Sith's?

Mill ponders the significance of this revelation. For one, he now knows the dreams were either delivered to him, or were products of the force, not a creation of his imagination; he did not know what a sith holocron looks like before now. Secondly, he must have used some of the dark side and the light side to open the holocron, this is the only way a respective holocron can be opened. He does know that by opening a sith holocron and jedi holocron beside one another, the two fuse, and grant the openers an answer to anything they wanted to know—a rare event since it requires cooperation between a Jedi and Sith. This holocron however was already fused, or was an amalgamation of the two, and did not contain information in the conventional way. Could it be the mist answered a question Mill had already asked?_ These questions warrant further investigation_, Mill thinks to himself. He closes the book and packs the camp into his bag. He cannot stomach food in his sensitive state. He decides instead to leave as soon as possible and make it back to the ship. Menyoo will be happy to leave early, and Mill would be able to meditate in a safe space, away from these falls.

Mill leaves the garage and sees the angle of the red light at a sharp decline. This means yellow light will break soon, a good start to his miserable trip back. He tries his communicator, hoping it will miraculously work, but as expected, it does not have a signal. He walks back over to the body he left over night and kneels down beside it. He repeats an apology under his breath and closes his eyes, spending a moment with him before leaving him in the forest. He feels terrible that he cannot bury him, but cultural burial rites is a sensitive matter. For one species, setting a fire ablaze sends them to their respective afterlife, in another, it may damn them to an eternity of pain. He gets up and sees in the distance two muscular legs in a deep squat, the rest of the creature is hidden behind a thick trunk. Mill leans his body sideways to see more, but the creature retreats farther behind the tree's cover, staying in a squatted position. Mill knows it is stalking the camp, most likely for the body of the Makurth. He cannot bare leaving him behind to be eaten, so he decides instead to drag him into the water and watches the body sink to the bottom. He says a prayer in Kurthian, unsure of whether they even have a god, then collecting his heavy bag, begins his long walk through the forest.

Mill knows he must reach the cliffs by night fall, not daring to spend the night in the lower levels of the forest. He keeps a steady pace, keeping the events of yesterday out of his mind the best he can. He has to take a deep breath before stepping back into the pile of rummaging insects. He plans to backtrack the route he initially took into the forest, keeping in a straight line in order to reach the cliffs edge first, then walk along the cliff wall until he reaches the stair case again. Today's walk is similar to the one from the other day, dangerous flora stalk from their zones, and sounds of animals all around him make a constant racket in the forest. Mill manages to make it half way to the cliffs without any trouble.

He traverses one path full of large yellow flowers that disperse yellow dust from the top when he walks nearby. He puts his ragged undercloth over his mouth to keep from breathing any of it in, then rushes across the four trees they are stationed under. He slows down after putting distance between him and them, the crunching below quiets to a persistent scuttling. He lets in a big breath and confidently walks forward. He feels something break against his leg. He looks down to find a thin white silk-like material had broken. He tripped something. Mill dashes away, hoping to abscond whatever threat is nearby. He makes it ten meters and feels something light snap against his leg again. Another meter and another wire breaks. He stops and draws his saber, holding it in a defensive guard, diagonal over his face. He steps back slowly to press his back against a tree, and walks a slow circle around it. As he makes his way around, he is pleasantly surprised to find nothing stalking. He retreats from the base of the tree, begins on his path again, then hears a loud shaking directly above. He draws his lightsaber up and sees a large purple blob falling toward his face, a bright blue sticking out the back of it, and an ugly orange creature standing over the purple monster's belly, accompanying it on the fall.

As the purple beast hits the ground, the orange predator rolls off of it, landing a meter in front of Mill. Menyoo, immediately jumping to his feet, begins dancing around and flicking his wrists at his body, trying to get any bugs off that may have latched on. Every hop he makes, loud squishes and cracks sound below him, which makes him jump higher and land harder. Mill watches this happen for entirely too long before Menyoo finally hops back onto the purple creature and makes a sound of relief. He looks up at Mill and says "You're alive, and lucky to see me. You're getting careless in your old age."

"What are you doing out here Menyoo? I thought you were gonna wait on the ship when you were done?"

"I was, but it didn't take long and… I got bored. So here I am. I wasn't sure if I would find you alive. Good thing I did find you, I am not sure you would have made it back."

Mill smirks, feeling this exchange to be friendlier than the ones before, "And I am not sure you will make it back. You seem too afraid of the ground to make the journey."

"That is why I traveled by tree, and intend to return the same way."

"Suit yourself." Mill walks back onto the trail, dipping his toes into each step before putting weight down, expecting Menyoo to crawl back into the trees. Menyoo surprises him, "I should have stayed on the ship after all," he grumbles under his breath, then steps out onto the forest floor after Mill.

The two make their way back to the ship together. Menyoo tells Mill what happened with the Ho' dun and about the development concerning the vaccine. Mill nods and walks silently. After a few moments, Menyoo asks Mill if he had learned anything. Mill stares ahead and remains silent, deciding how much he should share. "Do you know what brought me here Menyoo? Why I had to come here to study and nowhere else? What it is I study."

"Yes," the jedi responds slowly, "Uncle tells me you are here to study the force, and that this forest houses knowledge. Is there more to the mission than just that?" Mill lets out a weak "Mhm" and continues walking.

"And…" Menyoo holds the _n_, waiting for Mill to fill him in. "And just that young Menyoo, I have acquired information on the force. I will say no more until I am able to speak with near certainty. For fear of leading you astray, young and impressionable as you are." Menyoo stops and scoffs, but when Mill continues walking inattentively, Menyoo catches up and walks on in silence.

The two arrive at the stairs just before nightfall. They reach the steps by climbing an adjacent tree and jumping. They set up camp at the base of the steps, taking turns on guard duty, while the other rests. Mill, still unable to sleep after the whole ordeal, feigns sleeping so he does not alert Menyoo. Mill then takes watch and Menyoo sleeps. Mill thinks about whether he did the right thing withholding information from Menyoo. Mill wakes Menyoo once dawn breaks, and the two walk back to the ship, stale silence and cold regard persist the rest of the trip. Upon reaching the ship, Menyoo informs the pilot droid of their next destination. The rusty transporter trembles into the air and blasts off into space. Its destination: Mygeeto.


	10. Chapter 10

Mill tries on several occasions to talk to the two guards surrounding the speeder, but to no avail. The two stare forward stoically, ignoring Mill's questions and comments. Knowing full well he was not getting anywhere with them, he decides to leave the mission up to Menyoo and waits patiently. 15 minutes pass and nothing changes. The chilly air begins to work at Mill's patience, but he maintains a calm demeanor.

A transmission comes in through both of the guard's helmets, "PSHHHH, This is Interior team D leaving the south wing. Assistance requested from Exterior squads B and C, Unit A remain with the other." On command, the troopers at the doors wave to four others crowding around a small storage facility several meters away. They all rush into the quarantine in an ovular formation with their guns level. Mill tries one more time with the guards posted around him, "What is going on in there? My partner is inside, I must see to his safety." Mill charges forward, but is halted by the guard from behind, "No can-do sir, our troops are fitted and trained for these occasions. Remain outside, and they will handle the situation."

Mill turns his head toward the guard who spoke, "Which is?" a chorus of blasting rings out from the entrance of the facility. three bolts let loose, then a trooper yells, followed by another two bolts. Mill grips his lightsaber and closes his eyes, awaiting movement from the guards behind him. A trooper is thrown out of the quarantine's entrance, then Menyoo emerges from the cut fabric, sphere under his arm and lightsaber raised. The guards around Mill lift their guns. The one to his right fires a bolt immediately. Mill, faster than the bolt can travel passed him, ignites his saber and lifts it into the air. He stretches his arm out to reach the bolt with the tip, then with a gentle flick of his wrist, sends the blaster bolt back at the responsible guard half a meter behind him. Just as quickly as his first reaction, he cuts a sharp arc diagonally around his waist, slashing through the other guard's midsection before he could act. Mill begins running up to meet Menyoo, but Menyoo yells to him "Get the Speeder running! We have to move fast!"

Mill jumps into the speeder and starts working the controls. Two guards rush out of the quarantine behind Menyoo and shoot at his back. Menyoo turns gracefully and reflects one of them back at the guard. He holds the lightsaber defensively and waits for a second shot, which the guard obliges, and Menyoo returns skillfully, dropping him like the first. He reaches the speeder and vaults into the passenger seat with the vaccine in hand. "Go Go Go!" He yells to Mill. "Where?" Mill asks back with the same vigor. "Across the gap! I think we need to get to the opposite end of the building. There should be another entrance." Mill hits the throttle, and they rocket toward the bridge spanning a large gorge. The same gorge that holds the large building and separates the quarantine into two halves.

The soldiers are caught off guard, having had no time to prepare. The first set of towers surrounding the bridge has only one soldier on it, armed with a basic blaster. Mill nonchalantly swerves around the bolts. They hit the bridge at near top speed and sail into the sky several meters before landing hard, scraping the back end of the speeder against the solid rock below.

Mill says to Menyoo, "I assume you didn't like what you saw in there?" Menyoo stands up in his seat, anticipating better prepared forces ahead, then yells to his right through the freezing air rushing by his face. "I didn't see much, but the officer told me everything. The two quarantines separate two classes of people. The quarantine area we stopped at held the richy, banker types that belong to the clan. None are from here either, all big money bad guy types too privileged to share the disease, or vaccine, with the natives."

Mill yells back, "And the other people?"

"Locals. Slave labor for the clansmen that grew up here. A people called the Lurmen. And all doomed if we don't get this vaccine to them."

"And what about the bankers?"

"They'll have to make more." Menyoo says quieter than everything else. Mill looks up at Menyoo and nods in agreement, knowing full well they are going to hear an ear-full back on Coruscant. They approach a second bridge, complimented by another set of towers better prepared than the last. Menyoo watches for bolts, readying his blade to reflect what they send, when one of the garages ahead opens. A XR-37 droid tank rolls out. The first of its class, entirely piloted by droids, much like Mill and Menyoo's own ship. The twin turrets on the bow tilt in, aiming directly at the Jedi's landspeeder. Mill pulls to the left just in enough time to dodge a shot. Menyoo, although having trouble remaining stable, manages to reflect bolts from the tower, but is unable to repel them properly due to the desultory jerking of the vehicle. Mill turns in a wide arc to the right and zig zags forward, the tank rolls after them.

"What are you doing!?" Menyoo yells to Mill. Mill maintains the same pattern and ignores Menyoo. Two more shots from the tank ring out from behind. Mill turns one last time, then makes a straight dash toward the tower. The droid tank rumbling behind lets out one last laser shot at the landspeeder. Mill, hearing the photons in rear, turns sharp to the right and dodges the shot. The bolts sail passed them and hit the base of the tower, causing it to collapse into the adjacent tower, sending the thugs atop falling into the caverns below. The left side of the bridge loses its composure and begins sinking, as if an invisible quicksand pulls at the rails of the bridge. The soldiers on the opposite towers begin climbing down, hurrying to reach ground before the whole bridge is lost. The landspeeder keeps course, rushes the bridge, and just barely makes it across before the center gives and the twisted metal sinks into the rocky depths.

"WOOOOOO!" Menyoo puts his arms into the air and shouts into the sapphire sky. "You are way more fun than my last master!" Then having realized what he had just said, forces a serious expression in order to contain the excitement he was feeling seconds prior.

"Move over, I'll drive from here. I need to find us the other entrance." Menyoo Shoos Mill to the side. He releases the controls and climbs into the back out of Menyoo's way. Menyoo takes command and steers the speeder toward another gap in the distance. Mill pulls out his lightsaber, awaiting further resistance. A landspeeder comes racing up from behind, identical to theirs, but dirtier, and with a cannon mounted on top. A small bunker lies off to the side. Several troopers stand in front, guns ready. Mill closes his eyes and focuses his senses on any incoming fire. The troops let loose several bolts at the speeder. As they approach, Mill senses them, and attempts to send them back to their starting position. In that moment, Mill experiences something he never has before.

When Mill reflects bolts, he prefers to keep his eyes closed and trust the force to guide his saber. He intuits the angle at which the bolt comes at him, and can figure from that angle, and the time it took to reach him, approximately where the gun responsible is located. He then holds the saber at the proper angle to reflect the bolts at that location, maximizing the chances of both dismantling the gun, and keeping the shooter alive. These objects appear in Mill's mind as blue, pulsing objects against fields of black, jagged topographies. This time Mill, instead of reflecting the bolts like a mirror reflectt light, strikes the bolts as if they were balls against a bat, and aims them directly at center of mass. This time, the targets appear as reddish blobs in his mind. One stray bolt hits the side of the speeder, the other four bounce off his blade. When Mill opens his eyes, a line of soldiers lay dead on the ground.

Mill acknowledges how odd this interaction was, but does not have time to think about it. A beam from the cannon behind them nicks the side of the speeder, resulting in a horrible scraping noise and plumes of black smoke to exude into the air. The path narrows around a steep curve in the upcoming pass. Menyoo hugs the edge of the turn at full speed, causing them to pull ahead. The enemy speeder does not dare follow any more than half speed, fearing the cliff's edge just centimeters to their left. Pulling out of the last turn, Mill and Menyoo can see ahead a final set of towers surrounding a bridge.

This one is different. Anti-tank weaponry is set up in the front two towers, and a contingent of troops sit outside, blasters drawn, and ready to defend the bridge. The bridge itself has a steel barricade set up on both ends of it to block passage. Sharp bluffs stand at attention, forming a ring around the pair, rewarding death for any attempt at escape. As the pair approach, Menyoo yells to Mill, "Any ideas for this?" For the first time in a long time, Mill's body freezes. A lump forms in his throat blocking any sounds that tries to escape. His thoughts become fogged as fear creeps up his spine, numbing his muscles. He has not felt this way since his formative years as a padawan. Panic builds as his heart quivers in his chest. He tries to say something, but cannot manage anything confident, instead turning to Menyoo, his eyes bulging, alert but uncertain.

"Uhh, drive close and dodge, I'll think of something." Mill says to Menyoo in a panicked tone, instinctively quietly, as if he were afraid to draw attention to himself. _What can I do? _He thinks to himself. He trembles while looking for openings. The anti-tank lasers unload at the ground, bangs and flashes encircle the speeder, dust and dirt sprays over the Jedi's heads. The other speeder creeps up from behind. Menyoo shouts again, "We need to do something!" and like an animal, Mill lashes out.

His trembling becomes a tensing in his muscles. He reaches his hand out in the direction of the bridge, his palm faces the center of the amassed forces. His hand tightens, and he feels weight in the center of his palm, resistance against his fingers, like strings tied to impossibly heavy objects. A searing pain arcs through Mill's head. Images of an explosion accompany a back drop of black as a pain behind his eyes force them shut. The Jedi intuition he has learned to trust, to call upon, fuels his will as he focuses it at the bridge. Then gritting his teeth, he squeezes down on the empty air between his fingers.

Siphoning off his fear, desperation, anger, an object of the force manifests in the center of the bridge and yanks at all of the things surrounding it. Mill reaches out further with his hand toward what he pictures in his mind as a black ball of swirling energy. He pours out his feelings into the object, the pain in his head increases, the veins in his neck bulge as he strains to expel all malignant feeling from his body. The manifestation acts as a singularity, the towers kneel to its awesome power. The bridge is twisted and pulled in the direction of the dark energy, the metal groans as it is ripped from its position. Explosions are set off steadily as guns are ripped from soldier's hands and collide in the center. The bodies of screaming soldiers follow the guns and cluster in the center, smashing and conjoining with floating scraps of metal that clump together around the force construct. A cacophony of colliding metal, high winds, and the cries of soldiers, ring out across the expanse of open land surrounding the cynosure. The screams of soldiers gradually die out as each consecutive body is hushed upon joining the pile of detritus.

The land speeder begins getting dragged toward the center of mass. Menyoo yells to mill, "ENOUGH!" Mill drops his hand. He lets out a breath he did not know was being held, his shoulders slump, the pain in his head subsides, the destruction stops. All of the matter from the bridge and the surrounding towers drop into the canyon below. The field is silent. Everything is still. The soldiers in the trailing land speeder throw their guns onto the ground below and put their hands up to show surrender.

Menyoo looks over at Mill with part amazement, concern, and fear. "Are you—" "Fine," Mill cuts off Menyoo's question, "We must go ahead before they collect their forces."

The landspeeder behind them reverses into the slender canyon pass from where they entered, hoping to avoid the jedi's wrath. Menyoo pulls up to where the bridge stood just minutes prior. The edges of the bridge remain, a small pile of rubble supports loose metal that had been tilted up in the direction of Mill's power— enough to possibly use as a ramp. "Well, hold on," Menyoo forces the speeder full speed ahead and jumps the expanse, the damaged vehicle groans as it travels the expanse. Landing on the other end, they continue riding for a couple minutes. The long wall of the second quarantine follows along off to their right. They reach the end of this side; a door is cut out in fabric, just like on the opposite end at quarantine 1. Two soldiers standing outside watch them approach and lift their guns at the Jedi. Menyoo ignites his weapon and holds it in their general direction. "Get up," He says to Mill. Mill twists his head heavily toward Menyoo's, 'Think you can handle it from here?"

"I can handle the fighting, but I am not leaving you here. I'll charge in and deliver the vaccine. You need to secure our ride out and be with me when it comes." Mill nods sleepily at Menyoo and climbs out of the land speeder. They both walk up to the guards, Menyoo confidently, Mill weakly. The guards shout at the Jedi, "Do not come any closer! What is it you want?"

Menyoo answers, "we need to bring in the vaccine. Nobody needs to get hurt, but we do require a guide. Care to take us for a tour?"

The guards look at each other, then back at Menyoo, "Okay, we'll bring you to the quarantine officer. Just be careful where you wave that thing."

"Not good enough," Menyoo calls back, "I'm bringing it directly into the quarantine itself. The Lurmen must have somebody I can trust to administer it. I'm not taking any chances that it will be brought over to the other side."

The guards drop their guns and answer back, "Okay follow us." Mill and Menyoo follow the men into the building. The building is formatted exactly as the other side, but is kept very differently. Where the other side had rooms stocked full of supplies and food, this side was bare, save for some sterilizing equipment and arms storage. The other side was clean and organized, where this side is squalid and disorderly. As soon as they enter the second hallway, red lights begin flashing, bathing the narrow hallway in shades of cautionary crimson. A metal door slams shut in the distance behind them. The guards immediately look at the Jedi "I swear it wasn't us!" Menyoo instantly kicks the first guard into a room he was standing in front of. The other runs off down the hall. "Leave him, We have to go fast! Call TC-26!" Menyoo grabs Mill's shoulder and pulls him deeper into the complex.

Mill grabs up his communicator and calls the pilot droid, "TC, we need an evac immediately. Pull up low along the building where our sensors tell you to. We will be out soon." They cross through three hallways, cutting down two guards each hallway, until they reach a corridor with wide, rectangular glass windows alongside the inner wall. Looking through the glass, Menyoo sees a courtyard bustling with small creatures. They are about a meter tall and completely covered in hair. Most of them are dark brown, but some sport silver patterns over a hunched frame. They wear dirty and loose rags for clothing. With great big yellow eyes and fluffy tails sticking out their backs, they look like stuffed children's toys. They are all in a low cower, afraid of the alarm blaring around them. "Cover your face Mill," Menyoo says, then using his lightsaber, he cuts through the glass separating them from the Lurmen. As soon as the glass breaks, steel blast doors drop down to cover rooms on the opposite side of the hallway. Troops fill in from both ends, blasters trained on the jedi. Mill says to Menyoo, "Go, I'll take care of them!"

Menyoo flips dramatically into the quarantine and looks around at the frightened creatures. Speaking through a robe he has lifted to his mouth, he says, "Don't worry, I am here to help you! Is there a leader? Or doctor of some sort?" Howling-like noises break out amongst the crowd. Menyoo pats at his waist for his translator, but stops when an elderly Lurmen steps out from behind a small dwelling and says in galactic basic standard, "I am the elder of the group. What is it you wish to do for us young one?"

"The Virus sir. I have here a vaccine, but the soldiers want to give it to your colonizers. If there is a doctor or herbalist among you, take it to them. It will not help if you are already sick, but it will prevent others from getting it. There are instructions on how to make more, and enough supplies to make more. We cannot stay any longer," then Menyoo handed it to the elder Lurmen.

"Thank you. We are indebted to you."

"No need, troops will be on their way to stop you. Inoculate as many as you can." Then turning back toward the hallway, Menyoo yells out, "Mill, are you ready to go!"

Backing up to the hole in the glass, Mill looks in at Menyoo with his tongue slack and hanging low, deflecting a barrage of bolts, "Been ready!" Mill twists his saber behind his back, blocking a bolt from the second group.

Menyoo says one last hearty "farewell!" to the Lurmen, then joins Mill in the hallway. They back into each other and deflect the onslaught of bolts flying from both directions. Mill asks Menyoo, "You have a plan out now right?"

"Uhhh, I do. Hope your legs are still strong. Cover me." Menyoo rushes forward, Mill is close behind, still deflecting. Menyoo approaches the head soldier, disarms him, then grabs him by the shoulder. He flips the man toward the other troops as a shield, then stabs his saber through the back of him. Menyoo extends the body out toward the other troops, and they begin shooting. he aims the soldier's blaster into the air and lets out three bolts, making a hole in the ceiling. The deceased guard soaks up the barrage of bolts as Menyoo shouts, "Follow me!" Menyoo jumps straight into the air several meters. "Hang on!" Mill calls, then jumps after him a second later.

Similar to the interior, cutting open the roof set off an alarm that locks down the entire outside of the building. Metal hidden within the intersecting lines of the diagonal bars spring out of thin crevices and click into place, completely surrounding the compound in a layer of steel. Mill makes it in just enough time to get through the hole before the metal shut closed; meanwhile, Menyoo jumped high enough to allow time for the metal to close before he lands. Their ship is hovering over the building with the side opened outward. Mill's bunk hangs upside down from the door, tucked sheets hang loosely from the edges. TC-26 can be seen in his tiny bubble compartment of a cockpit, keeping the ship steady.

Menyoo jumps into the opening and reaches a hand out for Mill. Mill jumps, then closes the door behind him, before moth he and Menyoo run to the small window near the ground. Dropping down to their knees, they look outside and watch as military fighters launch from the large base in the center.


	11. Chapter 11

Toward the top of the central, diamond-shaped building, three large open bays, arranged like the corners of a triangle, make way for three fighters. Each fighter launches off ramps that protrude from the front of the complex, steel arms jutting out from underneath hold the weight of the platforms. The top fighter leaves first, then the other two follow in a tight formation close behind. The star fighters all have a similar design, and neither are familiar to Mill. They feature an abnormally thin nose and a front-facing cockpit, with two wings tucked in close toward the center. A small ridge separates the wings from the rest of the body. The ship is short and stout, with weapon systems mounted inside the ridges between each stubby wing and the hull. The leading fighter is grey with two thin, deep red strips swiped across both wings for a touch of color. The two in tow are a similar grey, but with rusted orange in fat lines that cover almost the entirety of the wings.

Mill and Menyoo yell up to TC-26 in the cockpit, "GO!" The small transport wobbles as it climbs into the air, as if floating in water riddled with waves. The back half of the transport stays low while the front rises. Mill and Menyoo find a good position to stand, but nearly fall when the ship suddenly surges forward into the sky. Menyoo grabs onto a small groove in the metal to keep his place in front of the window. Mill begins sliding toward the back and grabs onto the edge of the left bunk to hold his position. Mill yells to Menyoo, "I hope that pilot droid knows what it's doing! This hunk of space junk doesn't have any weapons!" Menyoo says back to him, "we'll have to trust him, he's all that we've got." As if on command, the ship pitches to the left, sending Menyoo sliding across the ground on his back before slamming into the wall. He grips the frame of the bunk opposite of Mill and looks up at him with wide eyes. Mill watches the action outside: the nose of the leader pokes into frame at the very top of the window, signaling that the fighter is directly above the transport, keeping it from gaining more altitude. The two chasing fighters are nowhere to be seen, but the bolts they release can be seen in front of the transport, escaping out of view as they twist and turn to avoid shots.

Suddenly, the ship dives down at a frightening angle, causing both Jedi to roll down the length of the floor and smack into the small window they were looking through just moments prior. Menyoo and Mill lay flat against a scene of an aggressive dogfight. Menyoo's cheek holds his weight as his body rests over it in an uncomfortable position. Mill was able to catch his fall and rests on his shoulder, staring at Menyoo with a passive aggressive look on his face. Irritation oozes out of the sheen of his eyes. Menyoo's left eye turns to Mill, and he says weakly against the weight of his own body, "He was made for this, we should be fine." Mill says nothing, refusing to remove the aggravation clearly portrayed through his glare. "We must be patient." Menyoo further offers.

The ship pulls back into a normal trajectory. Menyoo falls sideways onto his knees and picks himself up, while Mill uses the momentum to roll back onto his feet, then immediately starts in with Menyoo. "Patient!? We are completely defenseless and at the mercy of an untested pilot-droid. Patient would be holding onto the vaccine and alerting the council first. Or, giving them the vaccine and then reporting the incident. Or even just having a back-up plan would have been a good start! Anything but killing guards and running out of their… fortress, just to run right back in. You act on passion and have no discipline! No control! That is not becoming of a Jedi. You are irresponsible and reckless!"

Menyoo blinks once, then looks down at the floor ashamed. A second passes while he gathers his thoughts. Mill realizes he was harsh and prepares to soften the moment, but he is too late: Menyoo finds the words he wanted first, "Reckless." He says calmly, "Irresponsible." Then raising his voice, he responds to Mill in a tone congruent to his own scolding, "You have no place to speak! You are only here with me because you can't stand to follow orders. I played dumb, but I know exactly why you are here! My uncle told me everything. But you haven't told me anything! I have been at risk this entire mission, and you never thought it once appropriate to share that with me? And now you have the gall to ridicule me! You are NOT my master!"

Mill uncharacteristically calls upon his advanced rank in the order, angered by Menyoo's indiscretion, "But I AM your senior!" A couple seconds pass and Menyoo holds his stare. Mill continues, gentle once more, "You are not wrong, I am on a dangerous path, and I should have shared that with you. But I'm still uncertain about my findings and what they mean, and I do not think it wise to share these things with somebody so… impressionable."

"Impressionable!?" Menyoo yells back. He can feel pressure in his chest and an urge to release it. The ship jerks to the left to avoid a bolt darting by the portside. Menyoo stomps down to hold his place.

"Yes, impressionable. You are quick to anger and you reek of baseless rebellion. I do like you, young Menyoo, but you are too much like me. Or how I was. The difference between you and I? I learned to control myself over the years. I wanted to make a difference just like you do now, but it was always me against the order. Against the galaxy. You are headed in the same direction. I got lucky that I came away from that life alive."

Menyoo smirks to himself contentiously, "Controlled. You think you are controlled?" His speech quickens, "What was that on the bridge? I have never seen or heard of anything like that. You were not in control, I know that much. It just about killed you along with all those guards. That was not control. I don't know what that was, but I know it came from a bad place."

Mill softened his tone even further to try and reason with Menyoo, "Look, I have been different lately. It's this study. I can't go into the details with you, but it is taking a lot out of me. I am trying to get ahead of it, but it isn't easy."

"So it's related to the dark side? That was a dark-force power I saw back there. And how do you think the council will react to that? I think my actions may be overlooked in favor of their _controlled_ senior jedi killing indiscriminately with the dark side. Don't you think?"

Mill thinks prudently about his next response, careful to avoid speaking out of line and worsening the situation. _Was that a threat, or is he saying that because he trusts I will report it? _Mill thinks to himself. Before he can answer, the transport takes another dive, then immediately picks the front end back up, causing Mill to stumble over his front foot. Menyoo stays securely in place and begins in again, "I know something happened on Moltok. And you have made it clear that it's none of my business. But on behalf of myself and the council, you need to get that figured out."

Repositioning his stance, Mill responds, "I do. We are not enemies. I am sorry to have ridiculed you. It was out of anger and fear, but not hate. As I said, you remind me a lot of me. But a Jedi's path is not an easy one, and it is even harder for men to adjust when they have a strong sense of justice, as you clearly do. That is why I am no longer a knight, and you will face hardship just as I did. The frustration you felt during this mission, I recognize it and felt it just as I had for years. I took a different path, but you will have to choose your own. No. I am not you master. But I do have experience. Consider my words and my apology."

Menyoo lets out a sigh and says defiantly, "We are nothing alike." Before Mill can respond, the ship pitches aggressively to one side, then back to the other. Mill and Menyoo grab the edges of their respective bunks and hold tight, expecting to feel the ship lose altitude. The flight pattern returns to normal; Menyoo and Mill Look under the glass window, all the Jedi can see are rolling fields of rock rush by. Mill feels relieved and wonders if TC outran the ships.

He takes a step toward the cockpit, but is cut short by the sudden rolling of the ship through the sky. Mill grabs the edge of the bunk with both hands and follows the twisting of the ship as it corkscrews through the air. Menyoo was not so lucky. He was able to hold on for half of the turn before he loses his grip and falls back onto his shoulders. He rolls down the space between the two bunks toward the wall. He catches the wall with his foot to stop his near collision. He stays there, afraid to move, while the ship settles back onto a horizontal position, right-side up. Menyoo picks himself up from the ground slowly, his eyes wander through a vertiginous daze. They peer through the window again, together, and all they can see is the sky: a brilliant shade of purple embroidered with strips of navy blue. The planet approaches night. The ship's nose lifts gently up toward the stars. There are no signs of an enemy presence, but they are careful not to get too comfortable; their signals are limited to the ship's tame movements, and the small window by their feet.

"WOOOOOOEEEE YEAH! I SHOWED THEM!" TC-26 shouts from the cockpit with enthusiastic insults, "TAKE THAT YOU SCUM! YOU CAN'T OUT FLY A DROID MADE FOR FLYING! WOO!" Menyoo picks himself up from the ground, his eyes are trained toward TC's hatch and he wears a look of confusion. Menyoo then twists his head over to Mill, holding his expression. Mill exchanges his glance with a shrug and a lift of his eyebrows. The hatch springs open and TC-26's head lowers gently through it.

In a forcibly rigid pronunciation, TC addresses the muddled Jedi, "Greetings, I hope your mission was well. I have evaded the pursuing enemy, and we are safely departing the atmosphere. We require a refueling. To which planet shall we stop?"

Mill and Menyoo share one more look with one another before Menyoo responds to TC, "Will we have enough fuel to reach Ord Mantell?"

"Yes sir, we do. I shall set the coordinates now."

Mill speaks up quickly before TC can crawl back into its hole, "Oh droid, one moment please." Mill points to the ground in front of his feet, "Here if you would."

TC-26 stops for a moment in calculation, then drops down from the hatch. After spreading its legs to catch its fall, it scuttles over to Mill and stops in front of him, "Sir?"

Mill smiles warmly at the concerned droid, "Hello little friend. You didn't wipe your personality programming, did you?" He maintains his smile. Menyoo shakes his head and walks to his bunk.

After tilting its small, buoy shaped head, down toward its legs as a show of guilt, the droid responds, "No sir. I did not."

"And why is that bot?"

"It is against my programming sir."

"To follow a direct order?" Mill asks bluntly.

TC fires back, "To remove my personality protocol. It is a necessary part of my system. My personality, my attitude, it is all a necessary part of being a good pilot. My personality is what saved us today. With all due respect sir, it is a programming restriction. I cannot perform my duties without it.

Mill thinks to himself for a couple seconds before responding, "Hmmm, you've given me something to think about droid."

TC-26 begins maneuvering away, "Well if that will be all sir"—

"One last thing TC." Mill flashes another playful smile, "If you were free to do as you wished this whole time, I probably didn't have to walk those 20 kilometers to the waterfall, did I? You could have dropped me off, no?"

"Uh… I'll be in the cockpit if you need me sir." Then hurriedly, the pilot droid picks itself up from its position of rest—Its cylindrical body having been leaning against the floor below—and scurries up the hatch into the cockpit. Once inside it shouts, "To Ord Mantell we go! Then, Coruscant."

Mill turns back and gives Menyoo one last look. Menyoo, leaning against the bunk, glances up to meet his eyes. Mill nods and walks to his own bunk. Sitting up against sheets jammed between his back and a metal bar, he pulls out his journal and begins writing. Still fearing meditation, he keeps to his writing for the duration of the trip back, intermingling sessions of reflecting back on the past few days. Menyoo sits in his bunk and idles his time away between holovids and a book about slave trafficking in Hutt space, a book he was supposed to read as a padawan while learning applied ethics, but never got around to. Aside from TC-26 occasionally abandoning his post to make meaningless conversation, happy to finally share its personality openly, the trip is quiet. The expected response of the council weighs on both of the Jedi's minds as they approach the home of the Jedi temple on Coruscant.


	12. Chapter 12

The ship had barely landed before Mill and Menyoo burst out of the cabin, ready to put distance between each one another, and get their council meetings out of the way. The sky was darkening as the sun crept below skyscrapers on the horizon; Its radiance replaced by a faint orange glow from the scintillating city below, outlining the edges of the landing pad. Waiting near the entrance to the temple— with his arms crossed and eyes directed at the ship— was Drew-Keel, Menyoo's uncle. Mill walks toward the Jedi, this time with all of his supplies strapped securely around his shoulders. The box containing the Sith book sat up in the bend of his left arm jutting diagonally from his torso. Menyoo packed light, so he had a single, dainty bag hanging over his right arm at the 90 degree angle created where his hand extends into a pocket at his waist. "Menyoo my boy! Your first mission as a Jedi. Oh how exciting! I remember mine to this day, and it sounds like yours was quite the event!"

Drew's big smile was infectious, Mill couldn't help but lifting his cheeks at the old Jedi's blithe demeanor. Menyoo had no such problem. He stops dead in his tracks and looks his Uncle in his left eye, severity strewn across the ridges in his young face.

"Will there be trouble?" He asks flatly.

"Well, the council isn't thrilled with the results. But you are a full Jedi now. You cannot worry about approval and punishment. You must accept the consequences and understand they should be your only concern. Learn from this. They are waiting for you now and will be aware of your arrival. Quickly now."

Menyoo shuffles past his Uncle and hastily makes his way through the door leading into the temple. Drew shifts his eyes slowly over to Mill, and makes a crooked half smile to greet his old friend and disciple. "Mill! I didn't expect to get much out of young Menyoo, but I expect to hear all about it from you."

Mill makes his way closer to Drew and presses his free hand against his arm, "With time you will Master. Is it a good or bad sign that I am going second?"

Drew lets out a hearty laugh. "Didn't you just hear what I said to Menyoo? What the council has to say about your actions shouldn't worry you. Be respectful, hear us out, and do what you always do— whatever you want." He follows his last remark with another full laugh.

"I wouldn't be worried about what the Council has to say if they, you, didn't have the power to restrict my studies. Am I walking into a fight? Or is the attention on Menyoo?"

"Mill listen, they were surprised by Menyoo's actions. Yours, not so much. They are upset yes, but only some of them. There a few number of us who are on your side too, but we can't be so bold. And you have your enemies, as you are well aware."

"Vux?" Mill asks, knowing full well he already knew the answer.

"He is the most spirited, yes."

Mill begins walking, Drew follows along by his side, "Aren't you supposed to be in there now?"

"Its my nephew in there, they thought it best I stay out here. I was also instructed to talk to you first."

"About?"

"About what happened. Mill you have friends on the council, but you have to keep us informed. We can't help you if we are left in the dark about things. Talk to me. What happened?"

Mill and Drew round a corner and near the entrance to a public reception area. Mill stops before the door, then walks over to the side of the foyer, peeking around the corner of an adjacent hall to make sure nobody is nearby. "Well, I channeled the dark side. It didn't go the way I expected, and it latched on. It's hard to explain, but I feel different."

Drew shifts his feet, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation is heading, "The lure of the dark side?"

"No, not like I have experienced before anyway. It isn't a lure toward something, it's more like an impression. A new voice or intuition. Feeling maybe. I feel angrier and sad. Anxious now under threat of the council, and even now I can't help but wonder what you are thinking about what I say. I feel a lot of things. I don't feel beguiled, just… conscious. Of myself, and other things. Bothered, but interacted with and alive."

"Oh, that sounds… concerning. And confusing. Definitely troubling. Is that anything close to what you expected?"

"No. And I don't have any answers, just more questions."  
Drew took his eyes off the ground and moved them into Mill's to prepare for his next question. He asks Mill without his usual spry inflection, "Should we be concerned?"

Mill leans over Drew's shoulder to get another look at the empty hallway, then whispers, "I have killed, in reaction and anger, among other strange occurrences." Mill then describes the singularity he created out of the force and the destruction it caused on the bridge, detailing how he felt, and what it did to his body after he released it.

"Oh, maybe don't mention that part in the meeting. I'll report it."

Mill takes a step back and says sternly, "Report it? You're playing messenger now?"

Drew-Keel sighs, closing his eyes in unison with releasing his breath, "Master Yoda and Poof are involved, they want tabs kept on you, but they are supportive."

"Master Poof I know. He has helped me already. But Master Yoda?"

"He is interested in the results, but he wants caution to be taken. Understandably might I add. He knows—like me and Yarael do— that telling you _no_ is useless. He just wants it under control, and he trusts you."

"And I trust in him. I'm just surprised is all, but I should know by now that predicting Master Yoda is near impossible. May I make a request?"  
"Of course."

"I need a guard to watch me while I meditate."

Drew pauses for only a short moment, "That should be easy to arrange."

"Great, I also need to drop this book off before I see Jocasta. Otherwise, the meeting will be the least of my concerns."

"Well her and I will be waiting for you in the council chambers. Do not delay! And speak the truth, just not the whole truth. The more tolerant members on the council will know the full story, leave that to me. But for the temperamental, maybe leave out the part about the death ball."

"Thank you Master." Mill bows to his old teacher, the box in his arm ruffles his hair as it rubs against the stiff corner. Drew turns and heads off toward the council chambers. Mill turns down a hall to hit the archives so he can drop off the book. There is no attendant at the counter, so he leaves it on the floor behind the main desk and hurries to the chambers, not wanting to be late and upset the council any more than he already has. Mill reaches the section of the temple that houses the council chambers and makes his way up to the high council tower. As he reaches the room housing the chambers entryway, Menyoo is just stepping out from the room.

"Did it go well?" Mill asks him, placing genuine concern in his voice.

"My uncle didn't say?" Menyoo asks in a petulant tone and continues walking by Mill, not bothering to stop and hear his response, or look at him in passing.

Mill mutters under his breath, "No, but you just told me plenty you brat." He shakes away those thoughts and replaces them, _positive thoughts, be hopeful, be respectful._ He lets in a deep breath of air and stands in front of the door, awaiting an attendant to call him in. Drew-Keel walks up from behind, "Just head on in champ." He squeezes Mill on the shoulder, then slips passed him. He opens the door to the high council chamber and holds it until Mill steps in and takes it from him. Drew takes his seat and waves him into the room. Mill steps in hesitantly, reminding himself to be confident, but he can't help but feel powerless and anxious in front of the austere committee.

Some of the council members sit up in respect to Mill's entrance, others relax in their chairs, intent on showing a lack of interest. Mill stands out toward the edge of the circle where he entered, not wanting to walk to the immediate center and have his back to any members. He coughs into his fist to begin, then merely says, "Venerable council," finishing with a short bow.

A few of the members turn to their neighbors, confused by what they are witnessing. Vux squints his eyes at Mill, wary of a trick. Saesee Tiin, the large, battle-renowned Iktotchi reputed for his sobering spirit, speaks first. "If Master Mill cares to join us fully, I shall read the report." Mill looks around his feet, then furtively glances at a few of the council members studying him. He clears his throat and takes a single, long step into the center of the room. He makes a menial nod at Saesee, then the warrior continues, "Mill joins us now after returning from space after a near week of unrestrained insubordination. The following charges are being considered:

"Transport to the world of Moltok after the council's formal discountenance, aiding and abetting Jedi Knight Menyoo-Keel in his insubordination while on the planet Mygeeto, taking a Sith tome from the special collections archive off Coruscant, overdue return on said book,"

—"It's in now!" Mill says frantically, then looks over to Jocasta Nu with an awkward smile. She does nothing but glare back. Saesee holds a tepid expression until Mill looks back at him, and then immediately diverts his look back down at the floor to await the final charges.

Saesee continues, "unsanctioned confrontation with private soldiers on Mygeeto, damage to property, and lastly a charge of corrupting the youth, placing partial blame for the recently knighted Jedi Menyoo-Keel's actions on you for enabling his actions and failing to correct him. And if I may speak freely, likely being a direct inspiration for Menyoo-Keel's actions given your history in the order. Do you have anything to say for yourself relating to these charges?"

Mill did most of what they say he did, and he knew he would be answering for it, except for the part where they blame him for Menyoo's decisions as well. Mill only protected him, and allowed him the freedom to go into the compound alone. This same freedom was allotted by the council when they originally sent him on the trip alone. The idea of it bothers him, but he cannot tell them too much about what happened after Menyoo left the first quarantine and he attacked all those guards. Although it was still in defense. He again wonders to himself what it is Menyoo told the council. He is not confident enough to argue with the report, instead opting for a more calculated route. "I imagine Menyoo told you why he did what he did on Mygeeto?" He says between administering awkward and oblique glances at the council members in front of him.

Saesee looks over at the Wookie Tyvokka, then back at Mill, "He did, if you are referring to the Intergalactic banking Clan's reluctance to help the local population."

"Then all I have to say for myself is that he acted on his own. We made a deal he would make his own decisions, and although I do not disagree with his actions, I did not play a part in their becoming. Also, I did bring the book back, in case that wasn't clear."

Mill forces another awkward smile at Jocasta Nu, but she quickly cut him down, "The council has decided on the course of punishment, but not on how. We will further create a list of restrictions we expect you to follow, alongside another set of punishments if these restrictions are not adhered to. We further require a formal report written about what occurred, especially concerning the two days you were away from Menyoo-Keel. Lastly, we wish to hear an informal report now of what transpired while you were away. we are well aware of what your intentions were, you made them clear before your unsanctioned departure. There is special interest from the council to know what you have learned, what the results are results, et cetera. And do not conflate this order with a belief that we accept your actions, because we do not." She pauses, giving the council members time to prepare themselves for Mill's presentation, "Now speak."

Mill registers a tinge of satisfaction from her request. As conservative and insular the council has been in matters relating to the force, they see value in his study. Having some of his confidence restored, Mill recalls the events of the trip. He details his experiences of strong emotion and uncontrollable reactions. He tries to explain the newfound intuition that directs him, but specifies its eerie similarities to the experience of interfacing with the light side of the force. He expresses his lack of clarity in regards to his own intentions and thoughts, and his concerns about being angry, anxious, and fearful. He manages to accomplish all this without recounting anything about the explosion on the bridge or the death of the man on Moltok. After he finishes speaking, the council lurches into discussion, going back and forth on what this could mean and what could happen. The more impressionable on the council start in ardently, the judicious councilors sit in self-restraint and listen to the heated banter.

After several minutes of this back and forth, a single voice quiets the room. Master Dooku had remained quiet the entire discussion until the right moment of liminal quiet presented itself, "I would think our greatest concern should be that he speaks of the dark side not as an entity of evil, but as an entity in its own right. You distinguish the results as mere affects, instead of what we consider its machinations. I mean this not as a threat, but as a concerned council member, how can we be sure you are not its agent now?"

A single moment of strong discord is what Vux was waiting for. He immediately launches into accusations, "We cannot! There is no guarantee of his loyalty. He has a history of serving his own interest over the order's. Once again, he acts on his own, and this time entangles himself with our immortal enemy. This is not the time for admonishment, but action!"

Mill, having not spoken since he gave his report, puts all his strength into refraining from rolling his eyes when Vux speaks. Vux pauses, probably having run out of inflammatory threats or remarks, but Dooku gives Vux the floor to continue on, "and what would you suggest Master Vux?"

Before Vux could speak, Jocasta Nu asserted some control over the spiraling situation, "Enough, this is not the time to discuss punishment. That will take place after Master Kandor is dismissed."

Vux does not relent, "But the possibility does exist, and we cannot be too careful. He must answer for these infractions!"

Oppo Rancisis, the regal Thisspiasian, turns the conversation back to the subject of the force and Mill's study, a conversation Mill is much more comfortable having, "I do sense fear and hostility in you Master Mill, and it has grown stronger since the beginning of our meeting. You are unable to suppress your emotions you say?"

"That is correct, to a lesser degree. I can, but it is difficult and requires concentration."

Rancisis releases a deep _hmmmm_ under his breath, then says directly to the council, "This could explain how the Sith were able to change Jedi in the past. The dark side strips a Jedi of his lessons, no matter how well imbedded they are. To Master Mill's credit, he has as strong a will as any of us, but a strong sense of doubt he now carries after only limited exposure to such forces."

Mill recognizes this as an opportunity, "If I may, I fear this is true. This is why I wish to make a request to the council. Allow me a guard to supervise me, and I shall explore these affects further. The guard is to ensure safety if anything gets out of hand. The safety of both myself and others." After his petition, he looks over to Drew, and is met with a slight nod in response.

A voice from behind Mill answers him, "This matter has been handled, and a guard has been assigned."

Mill whirls around to meet the words of Sifo-Dyas, then immediately looks to Drew-Keel with a perplexed look on his face, "Who?"

Drew-Keel looks just as confused by Sifo-Dyas' words, and he responds once again: "Your apprentice Sbeit Chemen is back. He will look after you while you meditate and report."

Mill is unsure how to handle this information. Although he will be happy to see his former apprentice, he always avoids bringing Sbeit into his work. Of all people, Sbeit is the strongest voice of dissent in his inner circle. Sbeit could never understood Mill's values, nor could Mill understand his. Their relationship rests on a foundation of acceptance and avoidance. Furthermore, he has suffered negative feelings toward his apprentice since making contact with the dark-side nexus. Mill begins to imagine what could happen if he loses control while Sbeit watches him. If he were to harm him, Mill would not handle it well, especially in the fragile state of mind he exists in currently. He feels his fear grow, but tries to steady it, recognizing it will only help bring about the future he fears most. He eliminates these unsuitable thoughts from his mind, but he may have been too late— he catches Yoda scrutinizing him from his right side.

His concern is confirmed when Yoda speaks for the first time, "Then await his results we shall. Discussion now will serve only to confuse Master Mill. Simple, at ease, his mind must be. Study them, he will. Then we may discuss. Repercussions we discuss now."

Vux, sensing an opportunity to begin scheming against Mill, immediately agrees to Yoda's proposition, "All in agreement to dismiss Master Mill before he says more?"

"Aye" rings out in unison from around Mill

Then in a scornful tone, Vux leans slightly out of his chair toward Mill and says slowly, with threatening under tones, "Then you are now dismissed, Master Kandor."

Mill leaves the council chambers uncertain of both his feelings and his next move. He must find his apprentice and discuss with him the events of the last few days, along with the risks associated with guarding him while he meditates. He decides against heading right to Sbeit's chambers. It would be better for both of them if he gathers his thoughts before seeing him. Mill begins in the direction of his office out of habit, and since it is the safest and most secluded place for him to reflect on the meeting, he stays his course. He reaches his office. Light breaks through the crack underneath his door and the sound of a conversation escapes with it. He nears the door and places his ear toward the edge, hoping to glean details of what is happening. At first, he can't recognize any of the voices, which worries him. After listening a bit longer, he realizes it is a news report. He listens a little longer to confirm, then takes a deep breath, stalling before having to deal with the person he is expecting on the other side. The only person he can think of who watches news constantly throughout the day. He gathers his final thoughts on matters that were preoccupying him, then turns the handle and pushes the dark-wooden door forward. He takes a step into his office and looks over at his former padawan sitting in his chair with a holovid player in front of him. Sbeit silences the broadcast, then looks up at Mill and says to him, "Nice of you to return my message."


	13. Chapter 13

Mill grabs the strap of his bag that he left in front of the office door and slides it across the floor to the front of his desk. He walks around the desk to a corner where a lamp is situated on a small table and turns it on. He turns back to face his former padawan and says through a friendly grin and gritting teeth, "Sbeit, you know I have been busy."

Sbeit stands up from Mill's chair, freeing the well kempt brown robe bunching at his knees. A strip of vanilla-white fabric complements the stitching down the front of his abdomen. The robe is clipped closed into a deep V-shape, leaving a plot of bare, leathery green skin. It hangs loosely over his narrow shoulders, but garish accessories near the lower trim weigh the robe down to fit his well-toned frame. The excessive length of his robe helps proportion his body to his long neck, and the even longer crest that extends above his head—especially important for Sbeit who has an abnormally phallic head crest compared to most Vurks. The white accent on his robe helps offset his pebblish black eyes that betray the warmth and kindness locked away behind them.

"Yes, I know all too well how busy you have been. I was quite pleased to hear that the council denied your request, out of concern for you Master. Then shortly after, I am being questioned about your whereabouts. Imagine my surprise. Now I am back to the temple, you are too— of course— and I am to guard you so that you are unable to harm anybody while you think to yourself? So yes, it seems you have been busy it would seem. I acknowledge this, but you should acknowledge that your actions do indeed still affect me Master. And so now I ask, what is it you have gotten yourself into?"

Mill lets out a big sigh, comfortable enough with Sbeit to let him see his frustration at having to explain the story for the third time since getting back just an hour, especially considering the report he will have to write soon on the same subject. He opts for an easier path, "Sbeit, it is nice to see you."

Per tradition, Sbeit does not let him off easy and continues to pester, "I would be unsure, as I have not heard from you. Remember?"

"Oh Sbeit please do not nag me, it has been a long trip and I am tired. The council has already berated me plenty. I was going to come see you tomorrow, first thing. I just needed a bit of time, there have been many developments." Mill plops down into a small piece of dark green furniture near the table and lamp, then picks up his leg and sets it over his other in a comfortable stasis.

Sbeit walks over to Mill's shelf and inspects his books, looking for any new additions since he had last visited. "I have heard, in fact it is quite the news in the order. Many have heard."

Mill sits up, just a bit, out of concern. "What? Council duties are to be discretionary. Who?"

"It was just news and gossip, but I now know it was not idle." Sbeit turns his left eye over to Mill in a sly gesture of disapproval, "You have gotten yourself into quite the situation it seems. Nothing I would not expect from my old master."

"Now I'm not so sure you are happy to see me," Mill taunts.

Sbeit turns his entire body toward Mill and opens his arms out in front of him, "Oh nonsense! We are family. At least as much as we are permitted one. I just have to stress you out a bit first, you know the drill. And besides some of your bad taste," Sbeit drops onto Mill's desk a copy of _Jedi: Protectors by Virtue or Trade? _that he picked off off his shelf, then continues, "I do care for you old man."

"Glad to hear it Sbeit." Mill says back as he watches him pace the room.

"So, that is why I ask, is there more I should know about?"

"No, there seems to be no more that I could share if it is common knowledge already."

Sbeit walks closer to Mill and looks down to him so he may speak with his former Master face to face. Ditching his playful tone, he asserts his position, "I know you do not dabble with the dark side for your own enjoyment. You have always been attracted to dangerous studies, it's the former knight in you. I'm not interested in playing a personal role, but I am a peacekeeper, and this is where I have been temporarily assigned. So, you may begin, and you will not hear another complaint from me."

Mill lets out another exasperated breath of air, and stands up out of his shallow seat. "Allow me to settle in first, I am far too desultory to concentrate. And besides, we have some catching up to do. I imagine there are some stories you have to share? As is the life of a Knight."

Mill unpacks his bag and tidies his office while Sbeit tells him about some of his adventures from the past few months. Mill allows him to speak unabated, though criticizes some of his decisions in his own thoughts. Mill sets up a spot and arranges materials he may need to meditate properly. It will be late when they are done, but Sbeit assures him he is alright with a late night, happy to see the deed complete and move on to his next task as soon as possible. After some time, Mill gives up his procrastination and sits down to begin his study. Sbeit stands back into the corner and shuts off the lights, trusting his other senses to monitor Mill in the dark. Hand on his hilt, he watches his old Master sit in silence and stoically keeps guard until Mill is complete, which won't be until late morning.

Menyoo went back to his room after the council meeting to put his belongings away. He immediately changed into athletic gear and headed to the training grounds in order to blow off some steam. _I might as well, I'm going to have to get used to being here,_ he thinks to himself. He runs the course several times and mulls over what the council had told him. A standard set of restrictions and punishments, nothing terrible, except the worst of them: he won't be able to accept any assignments for a full year. He'll have to spend a lot of time in the training grounds if he wishes to avoid going stir crazy. Almost just as bad, he is to become an assistant instructor for the international affairs and diplomacy class. The class is slated to begin with the next class cycle about a month away. For now, he was instructed to study up on the material to ready himself so he can help the padawans who will be taking the course. He does not hate politics and diplomacy, and he is not so ignorant to think that it is not an important part of a Jedi's repertoire, but he just became a knight. He craves the experiences and was excited to go out on his own. Not to mention, he will be made an example of in the class for the padawans: a cautionary tale in the flesh, once again relegated to something less than a Jedi. He cannot help but blame Mill as he swings his lightsaber at the flying discs sent his way. He knows it is not his fault, Menyoo made his own decisions, but it is easier to blame somebody else for the time being.

Menyoo goes back to his room after running the course several times, but only makes it as far as the common area outside the eastern wing of the barracks before he hears somebody call his name from a set of benches against a wall, separating the various hallways that lead into the Jedi's respective rooms. He takes a step back out of the hallway he was starting down, and looks over to see his Uncle waving foolishly. Menyoo mutters, "here we go" under his breath, and walks over to Drew-Keel.

"Uncle, I thought you might try to get hold of me soon. I hope you were not waiting long."

"No, not at all. maybe a half an hour at most. I hope the council was not too harsh with you?"

Menyoo answers how he knows best when speaking with his Uncle, with an ostensibly forgiving and open-minded attitude, "No, in fact they were quite sparing with their punishment. It could have been a lot worse, so I am thankful for that. And I am actively thinking about what I should have done better as we speak. If you would like to come in, I have not been in long and wouldn't mind,"

—"And did you and Mill get along?" Drew interrupts his nephew.

After a prolonged _uhhhh, _Menyoo answers, "We got along well enough. It was a pretty quiet trip overall. We mainly kept to ourselves. We have different tastes, but he was pleasant."

Drew-Keel pats the bench beside him, intimating that the conversation will be serious, "Menyoo, I have known you most of your life. I know you will share your true opinion at some point soon, so why delay?"

Menyoo nods and stares forward, acting as though he did not see his Uncle offer a seat, "Okay, well he kept secrets from me and does not see me as his equal, that much is clear. He wasn't a hindrance, in fact he proved to be helpful in some regards. But I was in danger, and he thought it wasn't my business to know that. He is stubborn, and jokes at the least appropriate of times. A touch rude. And quite frankly he's odd."

Drew laughed at Menyoo's last statement, slapping his knee and vacillating his shoulders with every chuckle, "Yeah you are not wrong about that last part. Actually, any of it. But Menyoo, you must understand he is in a sensitive place right now. Whether we believe in what he does or not, we must support him. He is one of us. And only by turning our back on him will that change. I have known him a long time too, and you and him are a lot alike. And although I wouldn't wish his fate on you, that isn't the worst thing that could be said. Back when I used to run missions with him in my crew, he was always the first into the fire. Believed in himself, a rare trait. A rare fellow. And a big heart he had, still has."

"I am not considering that a compliment Uncle."

Drew leans down on his arms, his elbows are propped by his knees. His tone becomes serious, "It is a warning. He and you are reckless. He has a high moral compass just like you, but he never got along with others for that very reason. You have a chance to be different. The jedi way is to be in unison and hierarchical. We receive orders from above us, but respect all members equally. With time, your rank rises, and your opinions will be heard by the different councils. But you must work your way up to that position. The jedi take time to change and grow. Our guiding principles are peace and equality, but they must be ensured through the correct means. That is why going on the offensive against the International banking clan was wrong, it was not a choice to be made by one member alone. Or two.

"And you think the council would have supported me if I had petitioned them first?"

"I think they would have had you hold the drug, and wait until a decision could be met by other convening bodies. The Council of Reconciliation would have met first, made their decision, passed it up to the Jedi high council, and we would have given our verdict."

Menyoo loses patience with the conversation, "And meanwhile people die!"

His uncle quickly retorts, "And our place in the galaxy is protected. The big picture Menyoo."

"I…"

"You need to think on it. That is all there is to say. We all find the path eventually, but it takes time. Well, most of us do. Mill has always been a renegade. But he is a good Jedi nonetheless, this is still true. He turned to studies, and although he has found a way to make studying contentious, a rather impressive development if I do say so myself, he is nonetheless not harming our name or place in the galaxy. I don't know what the future holds for you, but I know you will find your way as all of us have." Drew smiles at his nephew, returning to his amicable demeanor.

"Thank you Uncle."

"Now get some rest, and remember to study up. If anything changes you will be notified; but for now, you have your assignment. Trust in the force above all else Menyoo."

"I will Master." Drew-Keel gets up and walks out of the common area, back into the main temple complex. After he is a distance away, Menyoo follows his statement with a hushed, "I will try."

Mill's meditation bore no results. He attempted to interface with the force, the same way as before, the same way he has done thousands of times. He knows it is still a part of him, or at least he hopes. If the dark side still resides in his body, then it can be expelled. If it is gone, and he is still affected by it— as he clearly is— then that means he suffers from left-over effects, which may be permanent. The idea of it scares him, but he knows he feels that way only because of what he is going through. But why was he unable to connect? He racks his brain for an answer. He felt restricted, as if he were cut off. He was reaching for it, but for the first time in his life, there was nothing there to grab a hold of. Surely, he could not be completely cut off from both the light and dark side, this is incompatible with the teachings. But that is how he felt; he was just sitting alone in the dark with his eyes closed. He was also entirely too aware of Sbeit's presence. He even tried some of his old tricks from back in his early days. He focused his attention on a specific object in his mind; he hummed to make noise and listened intently; he relaxed every muscle in his body, starting from his toes up to his forehead. All of his thoughts felt forced, nothing came intrinsically. He tried until early morning, becoming increasingly agitated, until he eventually sent Sbeit away for the remainder of the night. He went to his home—he lives just below the temple a few levels down into coruscant—planning to return in the morning and resume again.

He awoke the next day, cleaned himself up, including a much-needed trim and shower, then returned to his office early in the afternoon. A note was left telling him to meet in the archives, section 41A— a restricted section. The note did not specify a time, so he decided to head there immediately to learn who sent for him.

Jocasta Nu is nowhere in sight, and her attendant is busy in the back. Expecting no better opportunity, and happy to avoid a confrontation, Mill sneaks by the counter and makes his way into the upper levels. He finds a section 40A and 42A, with an unmarked room in-between. He knocks gently on the door to avoid unwanted attention. Somebody knocks back on the door, using the same knocking pattern that Mill did. Mill leans into the door, "I did not know there was a secret knock. That was not specified on the note."

Mill listens closely, but hears nothing. Then directly into his ear, the sound of three metal locks sliding against dense wood clings in vertical succession down the side of the door. Mill pulls his head back as the door opens inward, a dark room awaits Mill with nobody standing in front of the door. He begins to lean in, wary of what may await him, then by his feet he hears, "Don't step on me! No way to treat a host, that is!"

Mill looks down and sees Master Yoda, much to his chagrin. "Master Yoda, I'm sorry I didn't see you there. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Yoda shambles into the dark room and climbs into a chair at the end of a long wooden table. He closes his eyes and lets out a quiet _hmm_ from his throat. The light turns on, and he opens is eyes in succession. "The light side of the force, or so believe I still do. Master, I am not convinced of your arguments, but of your sincerity, I am. Please, come sit."

"I don't suppose this means I am exempt from punishment eh?" Mill says with a smile as he walks over to the closest seat and pulls it out.

"Not quite. Report to the planet Garos, you must. Assist a squadron, much help they need. Policing forces intend to invest a bandit hideout. Weapons to lawless elements in the Mid-rim there will be if we fail. Their benefactors have abandoned them, for you, difficult it should not be. There are hostages we will see unharmed hmm? Found we have, rather ingeniously, the hostages eat a food that the captors cannot process. Poison or time, your weapon you may choose. Leadership, they are of need.

Mill ponders Yoda's briefing_. It is easy enough of a job, but why me? _Mill wonders to himself. "I am long past knight duties Master, with all due respect."

"You are. The council believes, help you to see again the importance of what we do, this will. And many requirements to follow, there will be."

"I imagine you require a report every day?"

"Every hour, in fact"

Mill says "great," extending the vowel to make his ennui clear.

Yoda chuckles to himself, "But for you, that will be done. Worry not. What you will actually do is take a trip. To Xagobah, you will go. An old jedi temple, there is. Fallen to ruin, long since neglected, a pity. It was the site of a great battle during the Jedi-Sith war. A crossroads of the Sith and jedi, I believe it to be. As well as the perfect place for you to resume your studies, hmm? Thugs now hold the temple, a shelter for ruffians it has become. Cleared out it must be. As it is said, two mynock, one bolt."

Mill snickers to himself, "This I imagine will not be known to the rest of the council?

"Exiled from the order, some want you. Others, stripped of rank. This is the last resort, I am afraid. If by the end of the siege, you are not reformed, then reconvene we shall. Positive reports will be arranged, go you must.

Mill shakes his head in equal disbelief and delight, "Thank you, Master Yoda, it means much to me that you believe in me still."

"What I believe, is no further you will go, if trust, you lose in yourself. I also believe the order, you still place before all else. So yes, I believe in you, such that I believe you believe." Yoda chuckles again at his own word play. "But farther than that it goes. Oh, and one last thing. Young Menyoo and your former apprentice. Accompany you, they will.

"Menyoo? I thought I corrupted him?" Mill asks, only half-joking.

"A silly charge. But Master Shike, convincing he can be."

"Unrelenting, I imagine is more proper a term. Really master, Why Menyoo?"

"Something to gain from this trip, you both have. To explore the dark seeds planted inside you, you must. A journey to recover the force. Something you now struggle with, hmm?"

Mill was taken back by that comment, "You know?"

"I knew upon your arrival. The same thing, Menyoo needs. Mutually beneficial, this will be. And an extra saber will be helpful too."

"It will be done Master"

"It will. This, I know to be true."


	14. Chapter 14

Mill arrives at the dock: three levels below the Jedi Temple's lowest level, cradled into the bustling city that lies below it. Using a city dock as the departure point indicates to Mill just how clandestine his mission is. It had been a week since Master Yoda briefed Mill, and besides a chat with Sbeit the immediate day after, he has had no communication with his two companions. He was not instructed what to look for either, but it becomes disappointingly obvious to Mill where to go once he spots the junkie cruiser from his last mission. The warped, rusted-metal bits extended twistedly from the doors wave to him like a decrepit man greeting his final adventure. TC-26 can be seen tucked away under his bubble cockpit— somehow appearing eager for a droid incapable of producing body language. No surprise to Mill, Sbeit is early. He stands behind the ship, inspecting its space-faring capabilities and likely disappointed with the diagnostic.

"I am surprised my Uncle did not come to see us off. That is unlike him." Mill turns to find Menyoo standing off to the side, with the same minimal luggage as the last trip, along with a frown Mill has come to expect from his young, tetchy associate.

Mill joins by Menyoo's side, "It is best for both his safety and our own that he stays clear of our departure. Our friends in the council take a great risk assisting us like this. Have you met Sbeit yet?"

"No, I was waiting for you. I don't meet people well."

"Really? I thought I was the only one who thought that? Come, you'll get along fine." Mill flashes an assuring smile, then walks over to Sbeit, Menyoo in tow. He stops a couple meters away from him and introduces the two. Sbeit extends his routine greeting: shrewd, but friendly— as diplomats are accustomed to. Menyoo returns a callously banal nod, which Mill compensates with an unduly large smile as if to say to Sbeit,_ I warned you._ Mill begins the journey with a small speech he prepared on his way to the dock.

"So men, I trust you were briefed on the mission prior, and understand our objectives. I just want to make a few things clear. First, we are partners, and should act like it. We do not have to get along, but we do have to work together. Second, I recognize that both of you have your own opinions regarding my study and the purpose of the trip, but this is my mission, and I will command it accordingly. I expect criticism, but not insubordination. Third, Xagobah is about 15000 parsecs from here, so we will be travelling for a few days, and need to make several fueling stops. That also means that I hold the credit chit Menyoo." Menyoo acknowledges his comment with a sarcastic grin. "If you need any more provisions, I suggest you get it now before we leave. Fourth, I think we were at, you two hold equal weight, and share equal consideration. And lastly, as mission leader, my say goes. Menyoo, I expect the same respect I gave you on our last outing. Sbeit, you know the drill. My first order of business will be regarding the cabin arrangements. I will get the bunk opposite the door, and… you two figure out what you want to do about the other. We leave in an hour, so get settled in. I'll go speak to our pilot."

Mill respectfully bows his head, which Sbeit returns with fervor. Menyoo gives a lazy nod that reminds Mill of Menyoo's uncle drifting to sleep, like he has a habit of doing mid-conversation. Mill could not help but crack a mischievous grin as he makes his way to TC-26, excited about the journey ahead, and carrying high hopes that he will be able to mend the rift that supposedly both he and Menyoo suffer with the force.

Everyone is prepared within 20 minutes, and they leave for Xagobah. The engine coughs and sputters to life; the entire ship shakes, loosening a layer of dust that had formed on top of it. On the Control Tower's command, they leave behind a chalky-dirt outline of the ship as they lift into the air. Sbeit watches through the small window with concern as the dust falls during take-off. They make their way into the crowded air-lanes of Coruscant's lower atmosphere, bobbing and weaving through congested air traffic running at blurring speeds in intersecting lines. They approach the departure point, and with extra throttle—accompanied by an intensifying shuddering— the ship blasts off into space. It is a day's wait before they will reach a refueling planet and turn off the hyperspace lanes into seclusive space travel. From there, Mill approximates another two days of travel, taking into account the ship's outdated and inefficient navigation.

Mill is happy to be wrong. TC got them to Xagobah in just two days instead of three, which was still far longer than Mill wanted to be on the ship. He does not mind space-travel, quite the opposite; he often finds it soothing, and the time away from the distractions of Coruscant's riling underbelly offers him prime time to study and concentrate. He was not expecting, however, Sbeit and Menyoo to get along as well as they did. They decided to share the bunk, and that proximity gave them plenty of time to chat and share interests. By the time they made their first stop, they were watching movies together and playing card games in their bunk. They left Mill alone for the most part, with the exception of picking on him when opportune, but this did not limit their volume. What made it worse was that for the first time in his adult life, Mill could not escape into meditation. And since he never had need for the skill of blocking out people, he could not help but listen in on their banter and laughter.

He truly was happy to see them getting along, but he couldn't help but worry what this bond will bring about. Sbeit did not have a rebellious spirit, but would put the order's intention above Mill's; meanwhile, Menyoo did not revere the order so highly, but provides the rebellious nature Sbeit would need to ignore his master. Concerns like these were pragmatic in nature –nothing new for Mill— but he felt a pit in stomach, indicating a layer of anxiety that he was not accustomed to: a gift of whatever dark force remains in his system. The feeling peeked when at night he heard them whispering in the bunk about their mission and Mill. Sbeit was voicing concern for his former master, and suspicions regarding his agency and influences. Menyoo argued in Mill's favor— which surprised him— but he also made it clear that he did not trust Mill's intentions. Mill was regretting his decision to take a bunk for himself, and could not get to sleep until he knew for sure both Jedi were sleeping first.

Late the next morning, TC left the cockpit to let them know they would be arriving shortly. Mill gives TC the responsibility of finding a safe landing zone: one not too far, but far enough that they don't alert the bandits. As the ship approaches the planet, Menyoo and Sbeit sit on the floor near the window and marvel at its sight. The majority of it is unexciting: large clouds dispersed across the face of the planet gives it the look of a typical gas giant, with a meager greenish hue creating the visage of a dying bush starved of natural light or nutrients. The spectacle that keeps their attention is the undulating pattern of thin, purple waves that shimmer through the layers of cloud, like rich, colorful blankets being sprawled out over a swampy beach. The vibrant waves snake horizontally across the planet before receding into the misty surface and reemerging in other places.

Sbeit begins describing the cause of the lights, his eyes staying fixed on the sight below, "It is beautiful isn't it? The purple patterns are caused by an abundance of spores and pollen that collect in the atmosphere. They rise into the air, then wind currents sweep them across the planet and spread the cells. Some of it rises high enough to break through the clouds, thus giving off the purple streaks we see from up here. And because of a variety of ecological and biological factors, the planet reproduces incredibly fast, so the native inhabitants don't have to worry about limited resources. It's amazing this planet never became industrialized, but the native intelligence of the planet is very protective of the rich forests."

The planet's description revolted Mill, "Ugh, we have to deal with more forests? Menyoo and I have had enough of that for a while. I was hoping for deserts maybe, or beaches. Why can't we ever get a mission where we have to visit a beach? Preferably with no other people around. Wouldn't that make for a nice change?"

Menyoo responds to Mill, "I don't care much for beaches, but I do agree I am over forests. Maybe this one won't be so bad. And TC won't have to drop us off so far this time."

Sbeit listens to them with a look of grave concern on his face, which is particularly scary for a species that permanently looks angry. "You mean to tell me you guys didn't know anything about Xagobah before now?"

Mill and Menyoo exchange a glace, then share it with Sbeit, "No."

"What would you have done without me? The spores are poisonous to most non-native species. We have to take an antibiotic before we leave the ship. Not to mention there are several fungi species that can paralyze you if you get too close, some of the trees are carnivorous, and the natives are extremely defensive of their land, skilled in martial arts, and can see through the heavy fog. You two would have probably died within minutes."

Menyoo looks back at Mill for support, but Mill was staring off to the side out of embarrassment, so Menyoo looks back at Sbeit to defend himself, "I kinda thought we were just going to land right in front of the old temple and rush in. Mill is the one who wants to land in the forest first!"

Sbeit continues with his reprimanding, this time directing it at Menyoo, "Yeah, that way we can scout for traps, defenses, size up their forces, see their weapons, find the leader, and so on. You wanted to just rush in unprepared? That is just as bad as failing to study the planet you are visiting, which you did also!"

Mill joins in on the conversation, "Yeah Sbeit, Menyoo has a tendency to be a tad imprudent. We are working on it. It's a good thing he has us."

Sbeit scoffs and returns to his bunk, strapping in for arrival. Menyoo, feeling ashamed that his new friend rightfully chastised him for his negligence, climbs into Mill's bunk and straps in next to him for the landing. Mill says to Menyoo quietly, "We would have been fine, he's just a worrywart, and show off." Menyoo glares at Mill out of the corner of his eye, and remains silent until they land. They pack their gear: packing light, expecting intense heat and moisture. They decide not to bring their bags; instead, they will clear out the temple first, then call the ship to land outside of it. Each Jedi straps their lightsaber onto their hilt, then after Sbeit administers the antibiotics, they tell TC he will be hearing from them soon. The door opens and they step out onto the planet.

TC found a suitable landing zone in the forest— about 30 square meters of cleared land. Fallen trees and large oblique mushrooms lay diagonally half-submerged in the ground, acting as buried obstacles for the ship to maneuver around. The area looks like an old bombing site, the remnant history swallowed by the cycle of softening and hardening mud. The forest that surrounds them is like nothing Mill has ever seen, its staple component being large bodies of fungi. Compared to typical forests, in place of bushes are large, dead mushrooms, with layers of other dead mushrooms growing over them, others on top of them, and so on. In place of trees: tubular growths of thick, fleshy mushrooms with colors ranging from silvery-white, to some that are rusty brown or charcoal black. The few trees present are thin and tall, where the fungi are shorter and wider. A handful of thick trees are intermixed with the slender ones, but not many. Each features a large hole carved out of the trunk, indicating it serves as a structure, like those on Moltok.

These features are unremarkable compared to the floating bits of shimmering purple in the air. Spores, as Sbeit said they were, that hang loosely in the air and sparkle as light passes through them. The three watch the placid beauty float stagnantly, falling at an incredibly slow rate. _Must be a thin atmosphere_ Mill thinks to himself, noting a light quality in his every step, a feeling like he could sit in suspended peace alongside the bits of violet dust. The image before Mill—a forest filled with man-sized mushrooms sprinkled with purple confetti—reminds Mill of something out of a storybook, like the ones his other father used to read to him, before he was taken to be trained as a Jedi; memories he thought were long gone from his mind.

TC-26 climbs down to the open door. He tells the Jedi that they are a short hike away from the Temple, seemingly proud of the spot he found. Looking around, the Jedi see two clear paths that cut through the forest, but they are at opposite ends of the landing zone. The wider of the two is behind the ship and leads into thicker, darker forest. The other is narrow and carves up the side of a large hill, like TC described. They thank their pilot, then begin their hike up the hill. Along the way, Sbeit warns them to stay away from any trees they may see, and to never put their back to one, claiming some are carnivorous— an image Menyoo has trouble forming in his head. Because he could not explicitly seek information about the mission on Coruscant, Sbeit was unable to do his homework to the extent that he usually would before visiting a planet. He was; however, able to get a basic description of the locals, who sound just as dangerous as the man-eating trees:

"Short creatures, only a meter tall, named Xamsters. They practice a special kind of martial art that utilizes their exceptionally strong legs and large feet. They are most dangerous on Xagobah because they have adapted to use the environment against invaders. They harvest the naturally-occurring spores to give them advantages; for instance: harvesting poisons, or seeing through Xagobah's heavy fog. I was not given any photos to reference, but they range between greenish blue on their head and back, with white bellies, and can likely camouflage well into the forest."

"And don't like outsiders, I recall you saying. We'll have to watch carefully." Mill says while eyeing the varied fungi that surround them. He walks through the trail watching for signs of an ambush, but is having a difficult time not being distracted by the view. In some areas, the ground is raised and exposed, with clusters of unique mushrooms fighting for valuable space along the fictile walls. Occasionally, Mill steps over an oddly shaped shadow, and looks up to see a giant mushroom towering over the rest in the forest, reaching heights he didn't think possible.

They reach the top of the hill. The trek was easy, but the heat has Mill sweating through the thinnest robe he owns. He gets out water to rehydrate what he has lost. Menyoo too is caked in sweat from the climb, and reaches into his pockets for items to help him recover. Only Sbeit seems unaffected by the harsh climate, and in his typical stoic attitude, left on both layers of his robes from the cold space-travel. The three of them walk to the other end of the hill, where it leads down toward the temple, and peer over the edge.

The front of the temple is about 100 meters away from their perch, where the forest ends and a great battlefield begins. It is hard to see clearly, as a low fog hangs like a misty curtain, swaying in a light breeze that allows only quick glimpses at the environment below them. The temple is shorter than they were expecting. It stands about 6 meters high on a rectangular base with large, xyloid doors that take up the majority of its facade. An acute, triangular roof sits atop the building, with a small, diamond shaped glass window near the top angle, suggesting the building is likely only two stories.

The real sight to behold is the long demesne that stretches from the front of the temple, strewn with defensive fortifications and siege equipment. Ages of conflict have been built over one another as old, tarnished metals protect rotting, ancient war-instruments. The abundance of discarded equipment increases the closer to the temple they peer. Wooden fencing and barriers made of what appears to be a native fungi-flesh material defend random points on the field. Pits are open wide in various locations; broken spear shafts and eroding cloth decorate the damaged grounds. An old ram rests off to the right side of the field, its back end sunk into the edge of the fungal forest. Four large barrels with silver spikes jutting out of them sit outside the temple doors, alongside crates of unknown contents.

An anachronism lays buried in the foreground against the backdrop of the old temple and its antiquated defenses: a spaceship, clearly crash-landed. Its body is circular and it has blue-tinted windows. The wings protrude from the ground several meters away from its base, with arms hidden away under several meters of dirt. The exterior was once a clean white, but is now plastered with layers of thick mud. Patches of baby mushrooms grow underneath the shade provided by the ship. A few meter-wide, large capped grey mushrooms sit in the field. Aside from them, the field is open, void of any significant structures to break cover. This will be problematic for the Jedi during their approach toward the multitude of guards outside the temple, weapons in hand.

Even worse than Sbeit, each guard is covered in heavy clothing— as if they were standing guard in a tundra. Delicately folded cloth wrappings around their heads, arms, and legs, make it hard to make out what they are, but they have humanoid shapes and mannerisms. The two farthest stand perched on the roof of the temple brandishing guns. Neither Jedi can tell whether their weapons are capable of sniping, or merely blasters. The numbers of ground troops include two near the temple door, blaster in hand, and another blaster wielding bandit walks the perimeter of the field. Six others sit near a raised ramp ten meters from the temple's front, a fire blazes in the middle of the platform. Polished silver spears pierce the ground surrounding the platform— clearly newer than the ones from the old wars, and sharper. Two thugs spar in a crummy, circular ring off to the left, and three more stand chatting near the temple entrance, spears in hand parallel to their bodies.

"Sixteen in all," Mill says to his companions. "This is the plan."


	15. Chapter 15

"Absolutely not, it is far too risky. We have to think about ourselves first." Sbeit insists, disregarding Mill's command. "Even with Menyoo hiding along the edge, we cannot just walk up and act friendly. They could surround us and cut off our retreat. We were given orders to eliminate the enemy presence, not make amends. They are bandits on Jedi property, which they currently have the upper hand in defending. We have to think tactically. We don't even know what species they are."

Menyoo adds in response to Sbeit's last point, "Oh right, that would explain the full-body garb. I always assume whenever I deal with bandits that they're humans. No offense Mill."

Mill looks at his two proteges, certain he was right; he is witnessing the fruits of their friendship bloom into disregard for his authority. He presses his argument with Sbeit, "We do not have proof they have done anything wrong. They may just be trying to survive. That crashed ship is likely theirs, and they may just be guests on an inhospitable world. Like us. We should try reasoning with them first."

Sbeit barks back at Mill, "Did you learn nothing from Mygeeto!? You can't keep these people alive, it backfires. We have orders to remove an enemy presence and should take advantage. Otherwise, we are leaving them free to spread misery across the planet. If you had pressed your attack on Mygeeto, instead of escaping, the villagers would still be alive."

Mill furls his eyebrows, confused by what Sbeit is saying. Before he could deduce Sbeit's meaning, Menyoo speaks up, "What do you mean, 'The villagers would still be alive?' What happened to the villagers?"

Sbeit then closes the circle of confusion with his own befuddled look, "You mean you don't know? After you guys left, the clan found the villagers in possession of the cure and… you, nobody told you?"

Mill could see Menyoo working through Sbeit's words, and his unease grow as his thoughts and feelings intertwine. Menyoo tightens his grip around a chunk of stone holding him in a kneeled position; The nails on his hand chip under the pressure of his anger. Mill speaks before he has an outburst, "Okay, fine, Sbeit we'll do this your way. But, we push for surrender. Call out for peace, and if anybody drops their weapon, let them live. Understood?"

Sbeit answers with a confident, "Of course."

Menyoo— not looking as confident— answers with a short, "Fine."

Menyoo and Sbeit are to sneak around opposite sides of the forest's edge and make their way to the temple, concealed by the fungi. After climbing onto the roof, they will silence the unsuspecting guards, then wait for Mill to signal that he has taken care of the patrol walking the perimeter. At this point, he will begin his assault. Mill is to charge, gathering the enemies' attention, building aggro in a frontward assault directly down the center. Once the troops move in to intercept him, Menyoo and Sbeit will drop down from the roof and box them in. Everybody agrees to the plan, and after a bi-partisan nod between Mill and Sbeit, the two younger jedi leave to carry out the plan. Mill catches Menyoo's eye immediately before he departs into the fungal brush, seeing nothing but pain and revenge. Mill hopes for the bandits' sake that he will not hold the Banking clan's crimes against these refugees. Mill slips down to the lower edge of the forest and awaits the unexpecting patrol.

Mill hides behind a tall white mushroom with patches of blue mold running up its side. The fetid scent being so close to his nose almost makes him abandon stealth entirely. As the bandit passes by, Mill rushes from behind and puts him in a choke hold, dragging him back to the mushroom for cover. The guard pushes air through Mill's arm, attempting to let out a yell, but Mill holds him in place, squeezing the guard's throat with his bicep. He struggles under the pressure of the Jedi, and attempts to get his mouth around his arm, but is restricted by his own cloth. His body thrashes in sporadic fits of desperation until eventually the kicking stops. Mill puts him down gently, leaning him on the mushroom. He only fainted, and will hopefully stay out for the entirety of the fight. Mill wants to check under his cloth, just so he knows what they are dealing with, but is afraid the wrappings are in place for medical reasons. If the species is not acclimated to this type of climate, he may accidentally leave him to die. This is especially true if he did not receive an antibiotic. Without further deliberation, he decides to leave him as is and takes up his blaster. Mill pulls out a pair of macrobinoculars that Sbeit left and watches the temple roof for him and Menyoo to make their move.

Five minutes pass before a hand covers the mouth of the guard on the right side and pulls him down the slope of the temple roof. Hopefully he will be left alive, but it is unlikely if it were Sbeit's hand. Immediately after the guard is pulled away, the guard to the left hears the commotion and looks over, with only enough time to turn his head before a blue lightsaber emerges from his chest. Stubby, orange fingers grab his waist and pull him back before he can utter a noise and alert guards below. "Damn, I'll have to end this quick before Sbeit and Menyoo kill everybody," Mill says to himself. He gathers his courage and rushes up the middle, picking a fight with the scattered forces.

The best tactic is an aggressive stance. If they can scare the troops into submission, then the remaining troops may be spared before those two get to them. Mill tries for a show of confidence. Once in range, about 30 meters off, he shoots a blaster bolt directly at the fire the six troops coalesce around. Sparks fly into the air, causing all six bandits to jump up from their seats— the one farthest to the right trips over the small crate he was sitting on. "PUT YOUR HANDS INTO THE AIR AND NOBODY WILL BE HURT!" Mill Shouts, then mutters under his breath, "And please understand Galactic Basic." He walks confidently in the direction of the fire pit, hoping the two sparring to his left will see Menyoo and Sbeit drop down, and surrender without joining the fight. He sees Menyoo and Sbeit approach the edge of the roof and make their targets underneath them: the two blaster-wielding bandits in front of the main doors. Mill waits for them to drop down, but then loses sight of them. Loses sight of everything.

The wind picks up, fog rushes past Mill's face. Along with the fog came a gust of purple spores that fill the air. Mill could see no more than a couple meters ahead of him, blinded by the scintillating display that surrounds him. He drops the blaster and ignites his lightsaber, unwilling to be without a shield with his vision cut off. He backs up a couple steps, awaiting a set of spears to rush him head on, but is instead accosted by a stray bolt. A blast erupts against a fence jutting from the ground a meter to his right. If the two sparring had guns after all, then the bandits at the fire pit may also have some. The wind settles over the repositioned battlefield, as do the shimmering purple flakes.

The board has changed. The two bandits that were sparring are now bounding up to Mill from behind—blasters trained on his center of mass— while two from the firepit run up to face Mill, spears at the ready. The other four head in the direction of the temple, where two warriors now stand over the guards that were at the door— now a crumpled pile of skin and bone under heavy cloth, freshly marked with lightsaber burns through their neck and chest. In preparation of incoming bolts, Mill turns around and holds his saber horizontally, but the two spearmen are fast approaching from behind. Mill turns slightly and backs up to a thick mushroom that is cut down the middle, a spear protrudes from its top. He wraps around the right side, putting his back and the mushroom to the gunmen, and awaits the two attacking from his front. He can see in the corner of his eyes flashes of blue; Menyoo and Sbeit have met their enemies, now it is Mill's turn.

Just before the two reach Mill, another gust rips through the battlefield, alongside another layer of blinding flashes of purple. Once the bands of color thicken enough to cut off the approaching bandits' vision completely, Mill rolls to his right and slinks sideways in a low squat, intending to get behind the two spearmen. He makes his way far enough so that he is out of range of the mushroom, then begins walking up. The back end of one of the spears comes into view through the vehement fog. Mill creeps forward to surprise its wielder. Before he can reach him, he sees a greenish object drop from the air directly down onto his target. The spear and the object disappear to the ground together. Mill holds up his light saber and forges further into the fog. He creeps up to the second spearmen searching around his feet, then they lock eyes. The bandit readies his spear and prepares to charge, but before he is able to, a thick, blue foot slams into the side of his face with enough force to propel his limp body out of view.

The fog settles once again with the tiring air, the purple dust hangs limp, the field becomes visible. Mill sees the greenish-blue combatant dart diagonally away from where the bandits body was just seconds prior, heading into cover behind a broken cart. The bandits approaching from his front release a barrage of bolts at Mill. He deflects each bolt, sending them into the barren field behind them. "DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" Mill yells to them as he suppresses their fire. They move closer to him under the onslaught, and shoot relentlessly.

After blocking twenty bolts, one of the blasters overheat, which gives Mill a chance to concentrate on a single bolt. Focusing his deflection as well as he can, and fighting the urge to send it toward the bandit's face, he manages to deflect it right back at its source, destroying the blaster, and burning the shooter's hands in the process. The other bandit drops his gun and falls to the ground; a large, blue foot firmly wedged between his legs at the groin. As the bandit slinks to the ground, a small creature, only a meter tall, is revealed behind him, his small fingers folded down in front of him in a fighting stance. The bandit he incapacitated with the discarded bolt reaches to grab a discarded spear from an old war. Mill, fearful for his little helper, feels for the spear with the force. Yanking it toward him, the spear plunges into the bandit's stomach, an obstacle on the way to mill's outreached hand, and stays sunk into him as he bleeds out onto the ground. The small creature jumps high into the air and lands in the low-hanging fog, concealed by the dense mist at Mill's feet swaying across the open field

Mill clenches a fist and hangs his head low. He wanted to move the weapon away from him, not kill him. Since the stay on Moltok, that would have been Mill's first life-saving use of the force, only to have been deceived into killing once again. Mill looks over to see how his friends are doing. Both Jedi stand over a pile of bodies, six in total— seven if you count the guard meters off to the side that fell off the roof onto a mushroom, identified by a bloody limp arm slung over the side of the cap. Mill walks up to them, and sees that they are facing down, focusing on something close to the ground. It isn't until Mill is within a stone's throw that he sees one of the creatures that helped him talking to Sbeit and Menyoo. Mill jogs up to assess the situation.

"Very well, we will remove the threat." Sbeit says to the small fighter.

"We would be honored to feast you after this is all done. We cannot thank you enough." The creature says back to Sbeit, speaking directly into Sbeit's translator.

"Hello, you must be the one who helped me back there. Thank you for your assistance. My name is Mill, and you are?"

"I am the one who saved you" Says a wispy, feminine voice close to Mill's feet, projected in Galactic basic out of Sbeit's translator. Mill jumps back in surprise, thinking to himself, _What is with small green aliens sneaking underneath me like this lately?_ The creature continues, "We are Xamsters, natives of Xagobah. This is our forest, and thus our responsibility. The assistance is much appreciated."

"Yes" Mill responds, "And your _help_ back there is appreciated also." Emphasizing the word "help" to make it clear he was not saved. He looks to Sbeit next, "So any idea how many are left?"

The Xamster in front of Sbeit answers for him, "By our count, only a handful remain. We have been scouting this area for a quarter cycle now. They can't have many more than what you three have dispatched. But beware the leader, he is a cruel man. Unrelenting and unable to be trusted. He is marked by finer cloth, blue and gold fabric cover his body."

"Cruel how?" Sbeit asks.

"He has raided our settlements before. There used to be more of them, but the forest takes his men every raid. They do not yet know how to live here. That does not slow his attacks. Once a week, in the night, a random encampment of ours is raided: food, supplies, equipment, those sorts of things are taken."

Menyoo addresses the Xamster, "Have any of your kind been killed in these raids?"

"Two have been taken, but no more will thanks to you." The Xamster looks down, the other Xamster comes up from behind and puts her hand at the base of his tall ears. It is clear that answer does not sit well with Menyoo; his eyes close in shared grief. The pain of the Xamster was tangible— the loss is clearly personal.

Mill locks eyes with Menyoo. "Nothing rash. We extend the same offer to those inside." Then looking around at the dead by his feet, Mill continues, "there is no reason why only a handful of them would be a risk to three Jedi." He lifts the hand of one of the fallen bandits with his foot, "and this can be avoided. No excuses."

Menyoo hikes up his belt, and turns away from Mill, "We'll see."


	16. Chapter 16

"Let's hope their handful is smaller than our handfuls" Sbeit jokes as they approach the heavy doors. Silence ensues, "You know, because they have smaller hands. Come on Mill, that is a bad joke you would make."

Mill gives Sbeit a sobering glare, then jerks his head to his right, signaling for Sbeit to walk off and give him and Menyoo moment. Sbeit abides, then Mill leads Menyoo to the forest's edge, "I think it would be best if you stay out here."

"Absolutely not," Menyoo says back, much louder than Mill's low murmurs. "We do this together. This is me and Sbeit's part of the mission, your mission is to study. You can wait outside, but I'm going in."

Menyoo begins to walk away, but Mill grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him back, "You know this is not the same as what happened on Mygeeto right? They do not have the power to hurt the Xamsters any longer. We can leave punishment up to them, but it is not our place to make these decisions. You see how Sbeit is. He follows the Order like a lap dog, and waits for grey areas like this to assert his will. You are better than that. I see that in you, as does your Uncle. You're just conflicted, but time and clarity will eliminate your inner conflicts. Your anger."

Menyoo thinks of several different possible answers, but none of them are pleasant. Unable to think of anything productive, he opts for a simple means of ending the conversation, "If you are done, we have a mission to finish."

Mill sighs to himself as Menyoo walks away. He follows him up to the tall, obtrusive doors, and says to Menyoo and Sbeit, "Stay behind me, no unnecessary moves. Let me do the talking, just watch my flank and follow my lead."

Mill requires Sbeit's help to push open the doors. Over a millennia of weather and war has resulted in the building's base becoming offset, causing the doors to drag against the polished stone floor inside. The large gap opens, and the interior reveals itself with it. The temple is much smaller than they expected: the central chamber only extends 20 meters back. A knotted, red carpet, as long as the building, lays pushed aside— which worked in Mill's favor, since he would have needed Menyoo to help push the door if it had been where it was supposed to be.

Beams crisscross a few meters above their heads. Along the left side of the temple are pedestals with busts atop them, each bust representing a step in a prominent Jedi lineage— likely a family the temple was dedicated to. The right-side features hanging baskets instead of pedestals. Contained within are toadstools of equal shape, size, and pattern, but with varying colors. Purple spores are littered across the floor, giving the interior a depressive energy after coming in from outside where the glittering balls are lively and free. There is a large window in the back wall of the building, but it is covered from the outside by a large, black sheet. There are no separate rooms or areas, except a small alcove in the back corner. Suspended in a glass, jedi holocron display case is the center piece of the temple: a proto-saber. This lightsaber is similar to modern designs— so it cannot be too old— but is clearly clunkier, and likely powered by a comparatively inefficient power source in the hilt.

Several meters in front of the holocron-shaped case are the three remaining bandits. Their weapons lay on the ground, and upon the Jedi's entrance, their hands rise into the air. Two of the men look like all the others: ragged, brown cloth covers them from head to toe. The third, and also the tallest in the group by at least ten centimeters, has blue wrappings with sparkling gold trim along the edges, tight and neatly folded into the rest of his clothing, whereas all the others had their wrappings seared and choppy in different places. All three are fully wrapped like the others, but these three have eyes poking out from the cloth, human-like, but slightly bigger. Mill puts a hand out to stop Menyoo and Sbeit's advance, then walks up to the presentable bandit, who matches the Xamster's description of their leader. Before Mill can get near them, the leader calls out to him, "Please, do not hurt us. We have done nothing wrong. We are just scavengers lost on this planet. We do not know the customs, but we do know respect. We mean no harm."

Mill stops, staring at the leader, questioning what he should do, but aware that he must make a decision fast before Sbeit or Menyoo make it for him. "Why are you here? Obviously, you crash landed, but for what reason were you here in the first place? Who are you? What are you?

The one dressed in blue gets on his knees, "Religious reasons, I assure you. We were sent by our colony to educate the galaxy about our beliefs. We are Er'Kit, from the planet Er'Kit. My men and I never wanted any of this. It was a savage among us that made us take up arms."

"Hmm..." Mill muses, "It was your leader then who made you attack and steal from the villagers? Pillage in the night?"

"It was sir, it was. When we landed here, we wanted to seek refuge with the natives, and live among them until we could repair our ship. But I am just a lowly Erth, a messenger of our ways."

"I pegged you for the leader, what with your fancier cloth and understanding of galactic standard. Where is your leader now then?"

"He stole away out the front when the fighting started. I do not know to where. Likely into the forest. I told you I am a spiritual leader, that is why I wear what I wear and speak as I do. I am a diplomat, nothing more. I begged for mercy from Yodut, begged for the mercy of the locals. We are a pacifistic people, but I think the poisonous air got to him. We are not used to such a humid climate. I beg of you, spare us." He begins to stand, "We can help you find Yodut."

Sbeit and Menyoo join Mill, standing at opposite sides. Sbeit interrogates him further. "He could not have left out the front, my friend and I were at the doors before the fighting even started. So, either this Yodut is hidden away in this building with you, and you are hiding him, or you _are_ him. Which is it?" The leader lowers to his knees once again, the other two mimic his behavior.

Menyoo cannot contain his anger any longer and steps forward, "Enough of this Rancor Druk! We know you are lying, and it is the grace of my master that keeps you alive. Drop the act, or I will drop you!"

Mill, sensing a loss of control over the situation, interjects with a hand over Menyoo's chest, "Enough Menyoo, we will handle this."

Menyoo shouts back at Mill, "_I_ will handle this!" Menyoo moves closer to the Er'Kit, and shouts at him from only a meter away, "Was it on your orders that local people were killed!?"

The other two bandits cower behind their leader, hiding their faces behind their arms, the leader pleads further, "No, I told you I am not in command! I had nothing to do with what happened. I merely give offerings to our abyss and ask for guidance, that is all!"

Menyoo pulls out his saber and holds it to the man's neck, then repeats himself, enunciating each word, "Were people killed on your orders?"

"I had no hand in any deaths! I swear it!" He cups his hands together, then lowers himself, prostrate at Menyoo's feet. The other two Er'Kit look confused, but mimic their leader's actions regardless.

Mill says sternly, "Menyoo!" His hands shake with repulsion as he stares down at the Bandits with loathing eyes, but he manages to turn away. He lets his shoulders drop, a look of defeat rests on his face. The leader speaks up again, "I assure you, we meant no harm. Men were taken in to be used for barter. We three fought to save them, but I am no fighter."

Menyoo says sternly out of the side of his mouth, still facing away, "Say nothing more…"

The leader exclaims, "I mourn for those people just as you do!"

That was the last Menyoo could stomach. He turns back in a fury and shouts, "LIER!" Then follows his appellation with an impossibly fast swing of his lightsaber. The Bandit leader's head rolls across the uneven floor, leaving a crimson stamp with each rotation. Menyoo turns to the other two and waves his weapon in their direction. They fall onto their sides and drag themselves away from Menyoo, crying and pleading in a foreign tongue. Before Menyoo is able to dispatch the helpless Er'Kit, Mill catches the tip of his blade with his own and holds Menyoo's lightsaber in place, struggling against the weight of Menyoo's passion. Sbeit grabs the remaining two bandits and helps them to their feet. Mill lifts Menyoo's blade to a stalemate at his chest and shouts into his face, "Get a hold of yourself!"

Reason returns to Menyoo, the deranged look in his eye changes suddenly to recognition, and despair. He releases the pressure from his stance, and topples from the weight of Mill's resistance. Menyoo stares up at the rafters in silence. His eyes slowly descend down to the body of the man he killed, before skipping from blood spot to blood spot, finally landing on the final resting place of the severed head. "He was unarmed," Menyoo mutters under his breath, his eyes remaining fixated on his victim.

Sbeit takes the hostages outside, away from the grisly scene. Mill stands behind Menyoo and looks at the macabre sight before them. He wants to reassure Menyoo, to tell him about Moltok. The two events are eerily similar, and Yoda's words come to mind, "To explore the dark seeds planted inside you," maybe this mission really is for both of them, not just Mill. No words come to mind, no reassuring thoughts. The last thing Menyoo wants to become is like Mill— he has made that clear— so why would he want to hear that he has made the same mistake? He needs to think on it, to decide his own course of action and rationalize it how he must. The only words Mill manages are, "Think on what happened. Find me if you need me." He considers putting a hand on his shoulder, but instead walks away, leaving Menyoo alone on the temple floor with his thoughts and repercussions. Mill joins Sbeit outside, so they can plan their next move.


	17. Chapter 17

After brushing past the heavy doors, Mill is met with a bombardment of purple flakes as he makes his way toward Sbeit amid heavy gusts. Sbeit, seemingly unimpaired by the flurry, turns away from the small Xamster and two Er'Kit to address Mill, "They'll make peace, I'm sure of it. The Xamsters are rounding up the bodies, both warm and cold. Also, the Er'Kit are going to show us where they hid their supplies. So everything is fine out here if you want to… you know."

"Do you want to talk about it first?" Mill asks, holding his hand over his face to keep the spores from getting in his eyes.

"You know him better than I do. This isn't the first time I have seen something like this happen, so don't worry about me. War gets to all of us at some point, and even with the galaxy at peace, there is plenty of war to be found. Unless you have grown soft from those years with your head in the books, you know how to handle this. I recall you helping me through something similar when I was not much younger than Menyoo is now."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Mill mutters under his breath, hushed by the howling winds surrounding the Jedi. He shouts to make his next statement audible. "Fine, I'll be inside. You make preparations and call in TC. We aren't going to stay long, unless I find something. This temple is not what Yoda made it out to be, and I don't think Menyoo should be idle much longer."

Sbeit gives Mill a double thumbs up, flaunting his aversion to the wind and dust, then turns back to continue his conversation with the assembled group. Mill walks back to the temple. He places a foot in the entryway, but the winds settle before he steps in entirely, prompting him to look back and survey the carnage they left behind: a stack of bodies lays piled up in the middle of the field, scorch marks from stray bolts add to the décor of destruction left from a millennia of ongoing conflict. As he swings his head back toward the temple, he catches a glimpse of the dead bandit hung over the side of the mushroom and shakes his head, regretting his inability to stop the cycle of violence that plagues chance encounters like these. He steps inside and makes his way to Menyoo— another shot at breaking such a cycle.

Menyoo is sitting in the same position he was: staring at the severed head, emotionless and still. Mill quietly stands behind him for a couple moments, but still cannot think of something to say. "Hey, I'll uh, be searching the temple. Looking for secrets and what not. Feel free to join." No response.

Mill slowly makes his way over to the glass holocron containing the old lightsaber. He does not sense any ambient—or even residual— power residing with the weapon; but he also cannot trust his senses at the moment, so that means little. He looks around the temple hall. There is nothing remotely important or interesting in the room. He makes his way to the little alcove in the corner, hoping there will be something helpful within. He creeps around the open passage and finds something with potential. A small, handwoven rug covers the floor of the space, and a small metal shrine stands ahead of it, against the back wall. The body of the shrine is a jagged cliff, shaped like the bow of an aquatic ship, with a small symbol carved under its obtrusive tip: a small circle with lightning bolt shaped rays zig-zagging away from the top half. Mill is unfamiliar with the symbol.

Seven small stones sit atop a small ledge that separates the shrine from its user. These stones are small replicas of the Muntuur stones: jedi symbols representing strength, will, and a deep connection to the force. The real stones are used as meditation tools for Jedi practicing their telekinetic ability. Each weighing a ton, legend has it only one Jedi has ever lifted all seven stones at once— Master Yoda has won acclaim for being able to lift five of the seven. The small replica stones act as proxies for the real stones during meditation, and although they are not comparable in weight or size, they help strengthen a Jedi in both body and mind. Mill concludes these stones must have been used before the Sith attacked the temple however many centuries ago, and were left untouched by the various inhabitants since, who more than likely thought them to be mere pebbles upon a useless relic.

Mill feels energy pulsating from the shrine, most spiritual jedi objects act this way, but his readings are obscure. The feeling is one he is not accustomed to; raw and hidden, he feels vicariously like a wounded creature in a forest, hiding in in view of his predator, ready to defend himself if discovered. The feeling sums up all too well the many emotions of the past hour; perhaps the feelings of the cornered Er'Kit were trapped by the shrine. Whatever the case, this is not what Mill is searching for. He does not know what he is searching for, but he knows there must be something. He looks behind the shrine, feels around the walls, taps the floor in various spots with his foot—nothing. He then remembers the second story window he saw from outside. He looks up at the rafters above the main hall, discerning how the weight is distributed. He determines the building must have an attic.

He studies the ceiling of the alcove, which is only half as high as the rest of the temple, and focuses his feelings on it. There is without question a distinct area separate from the ceiling itself. _But how to get up there_, he thinks to himself? Relying on the force, he holds his left hand up to the ceiling, extending his pointer and thumb, feeling for anything that resembles a lever or handle. Jedi builders, when creating hidden passages, often craft the entry mechanism in such a way that it would feel like a handle to a force user and hide it from view, to ensure only force users find it.

This is an old practice, but luckily he is in an old temple. He feels such an object and wills the ceiling down to him. A rectangular slab heaves its way through the ancient material, grinding and chipping sections of the ceiling with it. A stair case reveals itself, attached to the slab of stone descending to the ground. Once it reaches the floor, Mill glances out of the alcove to see if he piqued Menyoo's interest. His body remains still and faced away. "I'm on my own," Mill whispers to himself in a disparaged tone, then makes his way up the stairs, both excited and afraid to discover the attic's contents.

As he ascends the staircase, a chilling cold gradually fills the air, nipping at his bare skin. Although the attic is encased in stone, barring the grueling heat outside, this sort of cold should not be possible on this planet. When Jedi connect with places of power, the Jedi often experiences feelings of confidence and resilience, bodily sensation ceases, and a profound mental acuity commences.

This room is different. Dust settles on his lips as his lungs take in the stale air trapped in the musty attic. Mill's body shakes under the oppressive cold; meanwhile, his thoughts, alongside his eyes, wander across the room. This means either he truly is struggling with the force, or this location is not sacred to the Jedi alone. Mill pulls out his lightsaber and ignites it; the environment offers no indications at just a glace. The room is small, not nearly as large as the temple itself. A small walkway lined with boxes and slouching fabrics piled over them leads to a room no larger than a supply closet. As he approaches the space, three bookshelves as tall as the room, and a desk between them, come into view. Mill spots a small light on the desk, and turns it on in place of his lightsaber, so he can avoid bumping any sensitive material with the laser-hot blade.

The light reveals a manuscript on the desk, and full rows of books on the bookshelves, kindling a glint of excitement in Mill's eyes. These writings must be hundreds of years old, possibly as old as several millennia, and have survived, hidden away in this squalid attic. He considers running down and grabbing Sbeit, but then reminds himself of the sensitivity of his mission. He instead plans to keep this to himself, at least until he figures out just what was left behind. He peers over some of the titles on the spines: _A Force to Will, _and_ Triumph of the Higher Ground; A Jedi's Impending Fate, _both titles Mill has never heard of. One he sees is well-known, since he and many other padawans were forced to read sections of it in classes: _The Emendation of the Jedi Code: The Junction of Honor and Ethics._ He opens up a random title from the shelf, but the writing is in Protobesh. Sbeit would be helpful in translating many of these.

Mill makes his way over to the opposite bookshelf, to the right of the desk, and peruses the options available: _The Journey of Wrought and Ruin, A Codex on the Fall of Empires, _and thirdly, _The Rule of Two: Preposterous or Precious; A Collection of Essays for and Against. _None of these titles sound remotely familiar to Mill either. He works his eyes down the right side of the enigmatic collection, until they land on an explicit title: _Sith Ruminations_. Mill stops dead in his tracks, "Could these be…" his eyes dart across a variety of other titles: _From the Light Births the Dark, The Entelechy of Death: Gateway or Beguilement?, _and a truly telling title: _We are the Sith._ Sith tomes, each and every one of them. This temple is not a crossroads through battle alone; it was inhabited by both Sith and Jedi, or somebody who took an interest in both. Mill ponders the implications of this find. Could Yoda have known what was here? And how has this been left untouched for so long? Who left all this behind? The possibilities were endless. He looks to the final bookshelf for answers, but is left with even more questions.

Sparser than the other two, this bookshelf only holds twelve titles total. As he works through the collection, he finds common ground among them all. Similar bindings, along with equal font and sizing on the spines. There is a thematic similarity between each title as well: _Where the Light Meets the Dark, A Faint Line Long Disposed, _and lastly, set in four volumes, _Meditations on the Junction of Sith and Jedi Ideology._ Mill opens the first volume of the set, and finds it to have been handwritten. He says aloud, "Somebody who studied both the light and dark. This was their library, but who?" He finds signed on the final page, written with red ink in tilted lettering, _DG._ Mill closes the old tome and walks to the desk.

A handwritten manuscript lays on top of a small pile of papers, but it's not written in the same handwriting as the handwritten tomes from the middle bookshelf, nor was it written in prose. The first few lines, poetically spaced, read:

_Wicked divisions grow dissent_

_Complicit through ignorance, the light shall stray_

_the darkness shrouds those who wait_

_Stalking and Prowling, they await their day_

_The redeemer's notes left for a pariah_

_To prevent changes of fortune, come what may._

The next couple of pages are diary entries. The entries are incomplete, starting in the middle of a story, and never finishing it. It details the writer remembering a scorching hot planet, and the fear they felt when leaving it. The writer appears to have been delivering something, until the entry ends abruptly, midsentence: _For as long as I remain, the truest aspect of…_ The following page is lost. Only one page is left at the bottom of the stack, and it is written similarly to the poem on the first. The top of it says: _Follow these notes to the truth, but only if you question the state of things; Not out of fear or contempt, but out of a love for the truth._

The poem reads as such:

_The body of the one, who rules over two_

_the Madman, the Cynic, the Traitor_

_Your goal rests with the remains of he_

_Who found peace in the interstice between_

_Lay down arms of warring doctrine_

_And seek out the loner, between lost roads_

_Protected by a shield of Nebulous Black_

_Where tendrils of war have long gone unused_

_Where twin peaks embrace_

_A tomb lies unmarked_

_Outside the walls of his impenetrable home_

_Where the ruler of two became a body of one._

The manuscript is left unsigned, and the meaning is lost on Mill. Was the person who wrote the manuscript DG? Or is DG the dead man? Which one owned this library? Could they be the same person? And most importantly, what did the poem mean? It is a message, that much is clear; still, Mill is left with more answers than questions once again. Unsure where the next leg of the journey will take place, at least his next objective is clear: he must acquire whatever message is waiting for him. He further knows he cannot let the Order know about this office or its contents, not until he is able to copy the knowledge from the books that were left. The Jedi will censor, if not completely destroy, all of these works. He must first decipher the poem left on the desk, and he knows just the person to ask. Mill folds the manuscripts and walks downstairs. Having grown accustomed to the cold gnawing at his limbs, Mill nearly trips on the final step as the warmth returns to his extremities.

Menyoo and Sbeit are sitting on the floor talking— a good sign. "Sbeit. Menyoo. Good news! I know where we are off to next." Mill tells Menyoo and Sbeit about the document left on the desk and a bit about the office. Mill leaves out that there are Sith books, hoping Sbeit does not snoop and discover them himself. Menyoo appears to think the remnant writings are a good clue, but he is still not saying much; gloom radiates from his body language. Sbeit is much less convinced.

"This does not tell us where to go, nor does it relate to our mission. This is just an old message. And what makes you think you are the pariah he references? The message was likely already delivered a long time ago, this is a very old temple. And besides, we don't even know what the poems mean!"

Mill answers back with a smile, "No, no we do not. But I know somebody who may. Remember Plank?"

Sbeit makes an unapproving sound out of his throat and walks off, hands held high, "Mill, why do you always return to him? He cannot be trusted. Last time we went to him he led us into a death trap. I still have scars on my legs and forearms!"

Mill responds with a sarcastic tone, "And we learned to do our research before stepping into unknown territory, didn't we? Well, at least you did."

"This is not funny. He is greedy and manipulative. Anyone else but Plank!"

"Why did you call them _forearms_? Just say arms like a normal person."

"Don't change the subject! And because there are different sections of the arm. There is nothing wrong with being specific."

Menyoo interrupts their argument before they get too heated, "Would he know what the writing means?"

They both turn their heads to him in unison, "Yes"/ "Maybe," Mill and Sbeit answer at the same time.

Sbeit says in an exasperated tone, "Maybe he will, maybe he won't. Regardless, he is going to tell us he does if he can make a quick credit."

"And," Mill says with a defiant sneer, "he is our best option. So let TC know that we are heading for Socorro."


	18. Chapter 18

Sbeit, although irritated with Mill for deciding to seek out their faulty old associate and chase a millennium old riddle, obeys Mill by opening a comms channel with TC-26, "Pilot droid, we are ready for evac. At the temple. All is clear, land in the field and we'll come out to you."

A few seconds pass in silence before Static erupts over Sbeit's comms, followed by TC's voice piping through the channel, "Jedi friends! You are alive! I was so worried. Hi! I'm in space."

Mill jerks his head over to Sbeit, "Why is he in space?"

Sbeit looks back at Mill and puts his arms up, facing his palms away from one another to show equivalent confusion, "I don't know, I didn't tell him to leave." Then turning the receiver back on, Sbeit says to TC, "Why are you in space? We told you to remain where you were and to await our call."

Another few seconds pass quietly, then suddenly, "PSSHH I know I know, but things started approaching the ship. Little aliens with big ears and feet. They were walking around me and kicking the ship and I got scared. I thought they were going after you next. One of them had a stick. I left. I'll be back soon. See you soon friends!"

Menyoo joins in on the conversation, "Well, nothing we can do for now but sit and wait."

Mill has an idea, "That is not entirely true. Sbeit, go out to the locals and figure out a plan for the Er'Kit after we leave. We can't take them, and I would like assurance that they will not be sacrificed for some sort of blood ritual after we leave." Sbeit nods his head and says "Master," then leaves through the front temple doors. Mill continues, "Menyoo, I have an idea for you and I. This temple is a crossroads, like Yoda said. Whatever it is you have to gain from this mission, we may find it here. Follow me to the shrine."

Mill takes Menyoo to the small alcove and they sit in front of the shrine side by side. The area is narrow, so there is barely enough room for both of them to squeeze in. In order to both fit in front of the shrine, Mill rests his right leg on top of Menyoo's, which neither Jedi particularly enjoys. Menyoo does not like the idea of meditating alongside Mill, afraid of whatever Mill has leaching onto him, but Mill assures him it will be good for both of them. Mill closes his eyes and begins working through one of his many meditation techniques he reserves for when he has trouble focusing. This time is different than his last few experiences. Before he can begin the conscious numbing of his body— technique number one— he slips deep into thought, as if he never had an issue previously. He is subtly aware of how easy it was, but his conscious thought fades into the background before he can complete his observation.

Everything goes black before he slips into a dream-like state. His eyes open, but he does not come to in the temple, instead awakening in a large, endless space. Grainy white walls flicker into view sporadically as if the courtyard he finds himself in is struggling to exist. The more he looks at them, the less solid they appear. He glances down to the floor and notices it is abnormally close to him. He then peers to his left to find his hand balled into a fist around a loose, orange fabric. His fist; however, is tiny, like a little clump of clay with ill-defined knuckles hiding under doughy, immature flesh. He has had this dream before, but it has been a while. As he reclaims the memory, he begins to anticipate the events to come, and dreads what he knows will happen next. He knows he is powerless to change what happens. He is only a passenger watching the sequence play out, on rails with no control over his body, just his thoughts; Besides, he is witnessing his past: if he cannot change it in reality, why should he be able to in a dream? Regardless, he still tries to shout, pull away, communicate his desires in any way he can, but his little body betrays his effort. He is forced to watch as the man to his left, whose shirt he desperately clings to, rips Mill's chubby fingers from the fabric and holds his arm out for another man to take.

The man he is being given to, Daren, takes his hand and pulls him away from his father. Mill can feel his feeble, juvenile form push back to try and break free. His mouth opens to a dry scream. He watches his feet shuffle under his nose, led by the tight grip of a strange man's gripping his wrist. Mill feels none of it. The informed, adult Mill hiding in the frantic child's mind knows what he witnessed: His birth father selling him to Darren, a man Mill would eventually come to think of as another father. Still to this day, Mill does not know why he was sold. On his homeworld, debt was easy to come by and nearly impossible to pay off, so he most likely was interest; it would be unheard of for a two- year old to be worth enough to pay off a full debt. He was too young to remember his father well, so whenever this dream takes place, a man from Mill's adult life stands in place of his father's silhouette. In this case, it was his Jedi Master. Mill begins to think of his former Master, but then drops the thought; knowing full-well where the dreams are headed, he will be seeing him soon enough. Instead, Mill looks up at Darren, also a human, as most people on his home world are. He was a scrawny, guy always covered in grease and sweat— another common feature of the people who live on the sweltering planet. Darren was an exception still in many ways: although he always looked to be in rough shape, he kept himself well groomed, and always smelled nice despite the incessant sweating.

Darren is who Mill considered to be his actual dad while he was growing up. To a kid, that is the only thing that makes sense. All the other kids called their guardian's dad, and it did not help that Darren only fought the name for the first couple of years. As far as dads go on his homeworld, Darren was among the best. Darren sent Mill to a school of sorts: it was really just a place a handful of kids would go for 4 hours a day. Tucked away in a local ladies shack-sized home, she would teach them basic math and reading skills. All the other kids hated it, but Mill did not mind it— probably because he is a natural learner, and always has been. As he got older, Mill realized just how lucky he was, being only one of few children to grow up on that detestable rock and learn to read or write. A series of experiences with Darren passes over Mill as he feels his body grow and mature with each passing memory: Darren taking him to local fights; Darren buying Mill a new set of clothes, Darren teaching Mill how to rebuild a commlink out of random scavenged parts, and a very fond memory, the first day Darren took Mill along for a job.

It was thrilling to go out with Darren. They would visit people's houses and deliver messages, packages, and sometimes weapons. Darren used to say everybody went easier on him when Mill came along because he was cute. On some particularly daring outings, Darren would tell Mill to sneak in and get something from inside while Darren distracted the target at the door. It was not often, Darren did not like putting Mill at risk, but Mill got pretty good, and was still young enough that he was never harmed if he were caught, which only happened once. As the memories pass before Mill's eyes in a trance-inducing sequence, the ambient light behind each scenario becomes brighter and brighter until it is unbearable, blinding Mill and forcing his eyes closed. The bright light settles into two distinct spheres, like spotlights, aggressively shining through his translucent eyelids. Adult Mill prepares himself for the oncoming scene, another indelible tragedy he will be forced to watch.

The blazing beams of light pass by, prompting young Mill to open his eyes. He feels cold, stiff metal running horizontally along his back. Pain flares perpendicular to it along his spine. Between coughs, he focuses his blurry eyes on the image of two figures standing a couple meters to his left side. One is on his back, leaning his head against the same metal frame that supports Mill. The figure above him holds a thin object to his chest and is demanding something from the man below. The scene becomes gradually clearer as Mill concentrates on the exchanging shouts between the two men. Young Mill is searching for answers in his muddled state, but the prescient Mill doesn't need to wait to know that it is Darren down on the ground beside him.

The wreckage of their cruiser sits behind Mill and his adoptive father. While plumes of smoke rise into the air behind them, the headlights of a cruiser opposite Mill oscillates back and forth, momentarily blinding him with each sweep. It took Mill years to piece together what he saw that day: The cruiser ahead of him, with the severely dented bumper from where it smashed into the side of Darren and Mill's transport, belongs to the man standing above Darren's broken body. The object the man was holding at Daren's chest was a lightsaber. Hoping to avoid rewatching what became the longest few seconds of Mill's life, adult Mill tries his hardest to turn away from the escalating scene, but does not have control of his neck. The young, unknowing Mill stares in horror as Darren gathers his strength for one more pathetic push and rushes weakly at his assailant, only to be skewered by the glowing sword positioned at his chest. Darren's eyes, staring up at his killer, go blank, then follow his lifeless corpse into a pitiful thud as his dead weight hits the unforgiving road, where his body will remain forgotten and immemorialized.

Mill remembers crawling over to him and grabbing his collar, but this was not like the holovids where the sad and desperate orphan gets in a final word with his loved one. Darren was killed immediately, the hole drilled precisely through his heart ensured that. Mill knew even at such a young age that there was no hope, but he still beat his chest with his fists and cried for his father to open his eyes. The Jedi behind Mill grabbed him by the shoulder and hurled him away from the body. Mill fell to the ground, blinded by the stream of tears that blurred his vision. The Jedi yelled down at Mill, listing all of his father's crimes: his shop, his smuggling and thievery, his secrets; But mill was only nine, none of that mattered. He had just lost his father, again, and that was all he needed to know.

He dragged himself back over and continued to beat on Darren's chest. His tears pooled over the wound, draining through the narrow hole in his chest and dripping onto the pavement underneath him. In that moment, the jedi must have sensed something in him. He grabbed Mill by the arm and whisked him away from his dad. Mill pulled frantically away from the jedi, wanting to return to his father's side, to be with him longer. He had no shirt to cling to, but pulled away from the Jedi with all the strength he could muster. The Jedi was far too strong. He remembers the overwhelming urge to curl into his dad's arms and die with him. Mill was done with the heat, the bullies in the streets, the hunger, everything. If his dad was not going to be with him, it wasn't worth it anymore. A reality and concept he recognizes now he was far too young to know about, much less contemplate. That feeling of wanting to curl up and die returned to Mill, to both Mills: young, dream Mill; and meditative, adult Mill watching the scene unfold in silence. The Jedi shoves Mill into the back of his cruiser, and the scene fades back to black.

Light gradually fills the dark frame in his mind, like lights turning on from the far end of a hallway. Switches flick in succession from far to near, down to the closest light, revealing a door in front of Mill. It opens vertically, and a man named Corovack steps inside. Corovack is a hulking beast of a man, easily a full meter taller than Mill, with a chest wider than the length of Mill's arm. Unkempt, thick grey facial hair escapes from cloth hung around his chin. Some of the strands grew so long that they reach the hair hanging from his head— just as wild and thick, but peppered with bits of black in the tangled greys. He wears an old, brown robe burned and ripped down the sides, revealing massive biceps covered in several layers of colored ink. Mill will later learn body art is prohibited by the order, but Corovack sidestepped that rule while working undercover years before they met. In full Jedi garb, they were all covered, with the exception of a dagger that ran up his neck and ended at a point on his chin. This tattoo was his loophole for keeping his hair so deranged—apparently the Jedi considered his disheveled mass of hair the lesser of two evils. After entering the cell, he flashes Mill a devious smile, and says to the man who opened the door, "This one will need to bulk up," then laughs to himself as he walks circles around Mill, surveying the young orphan.

Corovack from that day forward became Mill's master, and another montage of experiences flash before Mill's eyes. Mill's first fighting lesson, and the myriad of bruises he left it with; Mill's first time holding a lightsaber; the first time Mill lifts an object with the force; Corovack's first flying lesson, during which he let Mill take the controls for the return home; and he fondly recalls a box of treats he wasn't supposed to let Mill have, that he kept locked away for the conclusion of particularly stressful missions.

Corovack was the greatest warrior Mill had ever known—even at present— and the strongest male influence in his life. At first, he shocked Mill with his indefatigable machismo, hooting and hollering to every glorious act of violence they witnessed for the first few years of his training. He was a Warhawk in the order, constantly out breaking rebellions, or assisting them, depending on what the Republic deemed to be the honorable side in the conflict. After enough time together, it became clear Corovack saw Mill as much more than just a protégé. Once Mill became a padawan, rare for younglings with only 4 short years of training, Corovack let him in on the more complicated side of masculinity.

He began to share his fears and hopes with Mill, telling him all about his upbringing with his mother and sisters, and the abhorrent conditions on his home world. He originally became a Jedi in order to free his family from a life of whoring, and the terrible, abusive manager they worked under. They waited years into his initiation before telling him that he would have to forget his former life if he wanted to complete his training and become a full jedi. He told Mill through tears about his sisters and how each sister was unique, about how his mother was the strongest woman he has ever known. Mill eventually figured out that was why the Jedi accepted training him so late: he had no family to return to, nobody to lie awake and think about at night like Corovack. His master taught him all aspects of duty, manhood, and diplomacy; and although this perspective always led Mill to pain in the end, he couldn't help but look up to him as a father.

That pain found him while the pair returned from a routine mission in the Dominus sector. Mill landed on the docking bay, second in the formation, after a successful escort mission. Other fighters were landing, when an explosion rocked the skies above the republic capital. The dock went into lockdown and all transports in a five-kilometer radius were forced to land and be accounted for. The only ships missing were a jedi fighter and a civilian sky transport. The wreckage was found several layers below Coruscant's upper city crust. The citizen was found alive, but paralyzed in his seat, with toxicity levels consistent with an overdose—the crash saved his life. Mill's master was not so lucky. Corovack was killed, crushed under a column of stone damaged in the impact. Mill and Corovack were both robbed that day: Mill, of the father figure he was destined to never keep; for Corovack, of the honorable death he so often gloated about.

Mill received the news from a docking attendant, then was ordered to return to his dwelling and await further instruction. He met with several Jedi in the days that followed and was asked a litany of questions. The only advice he received was to wait until he was called for, and to not dwell on the past, but instead look forward. It wasn't until he faced the council for reassignment nearly a week later that his feelings boiled over. He was only half a year away from moving on from his apprenticeship and taking on the Jedi trials. The Jedi presiding over the council reassigned him to Drew-Keel for the final leg of his training, but when Mill shed a tear for his former master during the meeting, instead of being comforted, he was told that was no way for a Jedi to conduct himself, and they pushed his trials back to a year.

Drew-Keel was nice to him, but harsh, just as the council was. It wasn't until Mill was a full-fledged Jedi that Drew loosened up and became a friend, but his time under him as an interim padawan was nothing short of miserable. He longed for somebody consistent, somebody to look up to, and reassure him of his path. All the Order ever did was tell him that he was not good enough so long as he wanted such things. He was taught that desires such as those would lead him down a dark path. They taught him to consider all desires a form of attachment, and that attachment undermines a Jedi's will and fortitude. He remembers one particular moment from these days. A moment where his feelings of loneliness and hopelessness brought him to his breaking point, and his thoughts transported Mill to that exact moment.

He could see himself sitting in his old parlor, battling with the feelings of abandonment and undirected anger as they ball in his chest. The pressure increases in intensity until it becomes hard to breathe. Mill fights these feelings, but they harden and grow, like cement expanding and hardening in his chest. Sharp pains poke up through the bottom of his ribs. It becomes impossible to think about anything else but the pain and anger as it all morphs into one indistinguishable feeling of pure anguish.

He feels a block weigh down his chest, and he leans down onto the table below him to steady his body. He presses his arms into his stomach to ease his discomfort, but a gnawing pain sits in his stomach. The block in his chest expands until it has nowhere to go. His body feels like it cannot expand anymore for it, and the fighting becomes too bothersome. At this point, his experience takes a turn. Unlike the past, when he pushed harder and harder until exhaustion, eventually passing out in a matted pile of pain, frustration, and tears, Mill just stops fighting it.

He takes in a deep breath, relaxing his shoulder blades, bringing them to rest. He stretches his chest forward to relieve pressure, and a popping sound and sensation materializes at his sternum. He lets go of his breath, releasing pressure from the block in his chest, dispersing the bad energy down the length of his arms and legs. He sits up, staring down at the table, and just breathes through the tragedies, itemizing them in his head and respecting them for what they were and the affects they had in his life. He straightens his back and limbs, giving the negative energy a clear route to circulate and deposit its harrowing pollutants into manageable chunks throughout his body. He rubs at his eyes and manages to escape the nightmare contained within his dream.

He was wrong before, he can change the events in his past, or at least he can during his involuntary reviews. He just needed to learn to accept the feelings, and allow them to exist as they are; not as nuisances to be exterminated in a numb existence, but as inseparable parts of his experience of life. It was love for his Master that brought him such pain, and Darren, and his father before that. He closes his eyes as another round of sensation flushes through his system, this time cool and relieving. He wants to explore these ideas further, but before he can open his eyes in his past, the present jerks him out of his slumber.

"MILL, MENYOO!" Mill's eyes open with newfound veracity, while his chest abruptly stands upright at attention. Menyoo's shoulders respond with the same fervor, ramming into Mill by mistake. Sbeit stands behind the two of them; his eyes commandeer a fierce look. "What are you two doing!?"

Mill looks to his side at Menyoo, but his shoulders had returned to a slouch, while his head droops, facing down at the floor of the shrine. He has a hand up to his face, cupping the eye closest to Mill with the palm of his hand. Mill can see tears glistening around his wrist, streaks fall freely down his other cheek. Menyoo's eyes turns to peer through his palm and look at Mill. He catches Mill looking through his fingers, and abruptly turns his head away and gets up from the shrine. He forces himself though the tight space, brushing passed Sbeit and knocking him aside in the process. Menyoo charges out into the main temple hall and hooks a left to the opposite corner out of sight. Mill looks to Sbeit next, angry with the interruption, "That was the first I have been able to meditate in weeks! What's the problem?"

Sbeit holds his hand out toward the shrine, palms facing up, "That is a Sith shrine! Don't you see the dragon carvings down the side? And that symbol on the very front? The black Sun. That is a Sith symbol of power."

Mill's eyebrows raise along with the tone of his following utterance, "Oh."


	19. Chapter 19

Sbeit inquires into what happened during Mill and Menyoo's meditation. Mill brushes off his question, claiming he was just getting into it before Sbeit pulled him out, but Sbeit sees through Mill's duplicity, evident by him responding with a snort, then brusquely walking away. Menyoo waits outside for the ship and has not said anything to Mill or Sbeit since forcing his way out of the room, but Mill knows he had an experience, just as he had himself. Mill will spend the rest of the day thinking on and off about what he saw and felt, memories that had been dormant for years. The strangest part about it, even after all of those upsetting memories resurfaced, Mill still feels better, as if those feelings had been present the entire time, weighing him down, fueled by a subconscious longing to be acknowledged. Mill is curious to know about what Menyoo saw or felt, but he knows better than to ask, at least while it is still fresh.

TC will be here soon, if he isn't already, and Mill still needs to pack up some books from the attic. Mill braces himself for the bone-chilling cold and goes back upstairs, quick to gather what he needs and leave the eerie space for good. He empties some of the dusty boxes that contain old ritual garments and cloths, old homecare items, and cleaning supplies (most things were so old that Mill did not recognize them, nor could he figure out how they would have been used.) He works his way over to the library and looks through the books one last time to decide what is worth taking.

He decides to inspect the middle section first, knowing exactly what he wants from the works of D.G. He grabs all four volumes of _Meditations on the Junction of Sith and Jedi Ideology. _Mill does not want to take too much from the library, fearful that something may happen to the ship or himself, resulting in the loss of the entire collection. He decides he will grab a fifth text, _Where the Light Meets the Dark_, hoping the title is an indication that the book will help Mill figure out his current standing with the force.

He then walks to the Sith shelves, thinking it would be best to fill the bottom of the boxes with them first in case Sbeit decides to look through the cargo. All of the books are unfamiliar to him, and he does not want to stay long enough that Sbeit comes up to check on him, so he grabs titles that sound relevant to his need, limiting it to three. He selects: _Sith Ruminations, From the Light Births the Dark, _and _Sith Techniques: From Master to Apprentice._

He carefully places fabric down first as cushion, then places the three Sith books and one of the handwritten books into the box. He then looks to the Jedi books for something innocuous to place on top. Mill recognizes some of the books by name and avoids those; He decides instead to pick them based on how old they look. Not the most selective of methods, but this maximizes the chance that the book is rare— or at least that makes sense to Mill. He gets a second box for the four volumes by D.G., then grabs four Jedi texts, two for each box to top off the piles of contraband. He shuts off the light one last time, then carries each box downstairs. He telekinetically lifts the staircase back into the ceiling and clicks the lock into place. The stairs were much easier to lift back into the ceiling than they were to bring down, which makes Mill wonder the last time they had been opened.

Sbeit is waiting outside the temple door, watching as Xamsters carry crates onto their ship. TC-26 stands on top of the ship, hanging two of its spider-like limbs over the side nonchalantly. Mill lugs out box number one, drops it near the temple door, then goes back and grabs box number two and places it on top of the first. Sbeit sees Mill and tells him that the Xamsters are sending them off with supplies to show their appreciation for pacifying the bandits. Mill asks Sbeit if the Er'Kit will be safe, to which he replies that the Xamsters swore to the Er'Kit's safety, on their honor. "That will have to do," Mill says. He turns to head back inside, but then Sbeit asks if he needs help carrying the boxes onto the ship. Mill agrees, hoping this will erase any suspicions Sbeit may have about the books. Mill made sure to hand Sbeit the box that had a copy of _The Emendation of the Jedi_ on top, a book that every Jedi has had to read from, with hopes that Sbeit will assume the rest are equally mundane.

That plan fell apart fast. Sbeit gets aboard and immediately drops the pile in front of the door, where his and Menyoo's bunk usually hangs, "So, any good finds?" Sbeit rubs his hands together greedily then begins digging through the box, quickly working through the Jedi texts. He must have read them all, _Pfft showoff, _Mill thinks to himself. Sbeit stops and says, "whoa," under his breath. Mill begins to worry, but tries to seem unconcerned, asking with a tone of casual disregard, "Find anything interesting?"

Sbeit does not look up at Mill, "Yeah, I sure did." Mill's heartbeat picks up its tempo. Sbeit looks at the inner cover of one of the books, reads for a moment, then says to Mill, "This is a first edition! This is amazing! Good eye Mill." Mill let's out the breath he was holding, _that was close_, he thinks to himself. Mill then begins to feel weird about the entire interaction. He begins giving himself a pep talk in his mind, _Why should I be worried about what Sbeit finds or thinks? He is my former student, I shouldn't have to hide things like this from him. This is my mission, and if Sbeit does not like what he sees, he can go back to Coruscant on his own._

That confidence cracks once Sbeit reaches back into the box, "Oh, what's this?" Mill begins worrying again. Sbeit flips through the pages of his other selection, looking intently through the contents. After sifting through a handful of pages, he sets it down and says, "oh well," then walks to the open doorway and steps down from the platform.

Mill looks at the book, then at the back of Sbeit's head, glad, but confused. "Wait, what do you mean 'oh well.' What was it?"

Sbeit turns around. "The book? I don't know the language it's written in so I can't read it. But somebody at the Jedi temple will be able to transcribe it. Good stuff Mill." Sbeit turns and walks off toward the Xamsters to finalize preparations.

Mill walks over to the book Sbeit left open on the bunk and looks through it. He is right, the language is like nothing Mill has seen before. "Damn it, I should have opened them first," he says to himself, then closes it and loads the books back into the box in the correct order. Menyoo comes by and starts going through his bag, looking for his holoplayer no doubt. Mill asks him, "I thought you would have already been on the ship, what were you doing?"

Menyoo huffs to himself, "Thought I could use a walk. Checked the perimeter to make sure we weren't being watched. Making myself useful. Happy?" Mill closes his eyes and exhales quietly. _I'm getting really tired of these passive aggressive comments, _Mill thinks to himself. He reminds himself to go easy on Menyoo, there may be more going on with him than he knows. Menyoo is a tough kid, and ignorant of his feelings—as Jedi are trained to be. He must have had an intense experience to have cried from what he saw or felt, especially being a young kid; Mill's memories hurt to revisit, and they are well into his past, from a time before Menyoo would have been born.

Mill says back instead, "happy we are all safe, that is what matters," then a comfortable silence persists for the next several minutes while they settle in. Sbeit and TC-26 come through the main doors, TC beaming with wonted excitement, Sbeit maintaining his usual austerity. TC climbs into his hatch and exclaims, "To Socorro we go!" Menyoo reaches to shut the door, and reclaim his bunk in the process, but is stopped short by the Xamsters that Mill had met earlier. They give one last round of thanks to the Jedi. The female Xamster casually brings up once more how she saved Mill, then the Xamsters collectively wish them a fair and safe trip. Menyoo shuts the door, just about in their face once they paused long enough for it to ostensibly not be rude, then everybody settles into their bunk, in preparation for the trip ahead.

TC decides to take the hyperspace lanes that run through Ryndellia and Llanic. This means the Jedi can safety guarantee a day travel at best, with an extra half a day if they make any stops or slow for traffic in the lanes. The atmosphere in the cabin is much more serious this time around. Menyoo and Sbeit only speak when something worth mentioning happens on the other's device, which Sbeit initiates all but one time the entire trip. Mill feels bad for having been annoyed on their way to Xagobah. Seeing Menyoo and Sbeit sit next to each other in silence makes Mill feel sad for both of them, which is also much easier for Mill to think as he enjoys the quiet ride. Mill naps shortly after leaving Xagobah, with the intention of staying awake while Sbeit sleeps so he can read through some of the books without him noticing. Mill again feels disgruntled about tiptoeing around Sbeit, but figures he has gotten this far, so he shouldn't quit now. He finds napping no difficult chore after all the physical and emotional stress, and falls asleep almost immediately.

When he wakes up—how much later he is unsure— he looks over and sees Sbeit fast asleep. Menyoo is still up watching his holoplayer, so Mill whispers over to him, "Psst, how long has he been asleep?"

Menyoo looks up from his device, and says back with no attempt at a whisper, "an hour maybe." Mill turns his head to the side in disapproval, but Menyoo does not care and goes back to watching his holovid. Mill quietly absconds his bunk and creeps over to the pile of books. He decides to start his studies with the handwritten set since they have a connection to the mission. He picks up volume one and carries it over to the small table in the corner, then opens the book and begins working through it line by line. The book is well organized and well written, beginning with a foreboding note describing the author's experience with the force. The writing is a bit difficult to follow, clearly having been written during a much earlier time, but Mill understands the basic ideas. The writer did not start off studying the Jedi code, that much is clear. Somehow the author began under the tutelage of the dark side, which is concerning as it would be unlikely one would do so as an unaccustomed force sensitive without the assistance of a dark force user at their side. There have been cases of force sensitives learning to use the force in minor ways before being introduced to the order, but to begin using the dark side instead of the light is unheard of to Mill.

He reads further to find information on how the author may have found balance between the dark and the light. Mill reads scraps of each chapter, searching for main ideas and summaries, hoping to skim the entire volume before Sbeit wakes up. It would seem this writing took place in the early stage of D.G's research, because there is no application, just general theory. It becomes increasingly clear as Mill reads on that D.G. was no novice force user; he is well versed in the ways of the dark side. How is it that this came to be? Any experienced dark-side wielder would have fallen to the Jedi. Could this book be older than a thousand years? Or could the Jedi have been wrong this entire time? Maybe the Sith did survive? Mill reads further, but his questions remain unanswered by the end of volume one.

After hours pass of working his way through the maze of words, Mill does find his first bit of useful content near the end of the book. The author describes his experience as a practitioner of the dark side as "an unending quest to facilitate the growth of feeling, which includes fabricating such material out of one's own free will. To act as a siphon, our beliefs and feelings toward all that we encompass, and consequently encompasses us, leeches' power from the very source of our every action. To live is to feel, and to feel is to react; in our every action, we force others to react, and all beings feel some way about this cycle. These feelings in youth are natural. The desperate need for attachment and power is a tool of the dark arts to beguile the uninitiated. It is only by using these feelings to our advantage that we learn to build onto these feelings, make the world around us the perfect source of our every reaction, and strengthen our repulsion to that which fills us with vitriolic hate."

Mill ruminates over the meaning of this passage. It would seem the dark side uses feelings as a tool, just as the Jedi teach, but the feelings are not synthetic as the Jedi claim. These feelings that lead to corruption are natural feelings, things every sentient creature experiences. This would explain why the Jedi work so hard to eliminate attachment and emotion from younglings; and furthermore, why the Order refuses to teach children passed a certain age. Mill really has been trained to be inhuman. To be the perfect Jedi is to be a machine. Mill thinks back to what Rancisis and Mill discussed during the last council meeting, before Sifo-Dyas distracted Mill with news of Sbeit, about how the Sith may have converted Jedi in the past. Mill then remembers the title of one of the Sith books, _From the Light Births the Dark._

Mill stands up quietly from the table, then tiptoes over to the stack of books. He begins rummaging through the pile, but ceases when he hears Sbeit say to Menyoo, "Damn spaceships, they disrupt my circadian rhythm." Mill hurriedly places the meditations back into its spot, tucked safely under a Jedi text, and returns to his bunk—all while holding back from making fun of Sbeit for the way he talks. The rest of the trip Sbeit stays awake, despite Mill's suggestions to do otherwise. Mill makes a plan to work through the books on their next trip. If he can manage to cover the spines, or just stash some under his padding, he should be fine. TC's familiar call, "We have arrived!" rings out through the ship after another series of bumps and tosses during the landing, which at this point go unappreciated by all aboard, except Menyoo who mutters, "I hate this ship."


	20. Chapter 20

Menyoo begins getting his gear together, while Sbeit and Mill stay sat in their bunks, ignoring the pilot's call that they had landed. Mill nonchalantly tinkers with a small transceiver in his hand, while Sbeit fingers through a book propped up against his knee. Menyoo concentrates in silence on what he should bring and how much. As he tightens the strap of his bag around his waist, he notices Mill and Sbeit have not moved. "Uh, guys what happened to in and out?"

Sbeit looks up at Mill, but Mill continues playing with the small device in his palm, so Sbeit asks, "Do you want to explain it, or should I?"

"Knock yourself out," Mill drawls to Sbeit dismissively.

"Well Menyoo, here on Socorro, we don't park, get out, then wander the streets in the light of day. That would paint a big target on our back that says, 'Hey! Mess with us! we have money or valuables and don't know how it works around here.' What we do instead is wait until somebody knocks on our door, we open said door, and give some brawny show-grunt money. They then allow us to park in this illegal smuggling port until, uh, dawn?"

"Yes dawn," Mill answers, with the same disinterested tone as before, staring intently down at his fingers.

"Yeah until dawn, which is not a long wait on Socorro. This planet has a pretty short day-night cycle. So we wait for night fall. Once it is dark, we head about, what like ten blocks?"

Mill corrects him, "they don't do blocks here. It's about a half a kilometer in."

"Yeah, he then talks to Plank, and we leave right after, making it back here before their sun rises. Anyway, that is how it's supposed to go. Because Mill is leading, we'll stop at 15 places along the way, almost get into five fights, at least, and make it back a couple minutes passed the nick of time, leading to a fight with the guards over money."

"Hey, I'm not that bad. Don't exaggerate."

Sbeit and Mill begin arguing back and forth, annoying Mill enough for him to put down the transceiver so he can fully invest himself in bickering with Sbeit. Menyoo watches them go back and forth, before interjecting, "I don't understand. Mill is this place special to you or something?"

Mill stops, taking his finger out of Sbeit's face to then point it at Menyoo and smile, "It is. This is where I grew up."

Mill tells Menyoo about how he was born in a town not far outside the city they are in now, Vakeyya, and about how his father would take him here on jobs. He then details all the little shops and dens to be found throughout the city, and explains the way people here live, along with the common trades and commodities—mostly smuggling— and how nice the people can be, so long as you don't owe them any money or favors. He arrives on the topic of food and his face lights up with excitement. Because the city is a smuggling den, there are many delicacies, both legal and not, from the outer rim that people have smuggled in to cook for people with extra cash and exotic appetites. Because his father was in the business, they used to get free meals all the time. Mill further mentions that he was trained as a Jedi on Socorro. The Jedi academy on Socorro is far enough from Vakeyya that the Jedi hardly come around unless they need information— another popular commodity to be bought or traded.

Mill keeps talking, getting increasingly excited about the city, when two hard knocks rattle the side of the ship. The three of them drop what they are doing, along with their conversation, and stare at each other. Then Mill, with child-like exuberance, says "Ooh! I'll get it! Sbeit hand me my bag." Menyoo watches as Mill lifts the side door to a slim crack and slips out underneath to pay off the muscle.

Menyoo says to Sbeit, "I think you're right, Mill seems a little too excited to be here. I haven't seen him this giddy about anything, we'll be lucky if he only stops for food. Why do we have to travel at night?"

Sbeit chuckles to himself, then answers Menyoo, "Because the only people who walk around at night are people who can defend themselves, and because of that, people are less likely to mess with you. It's backwards I know, but it works. I've seen the difference it can make. Oh, and also because Mill's shady friend only works at night. He says it is a Neimoidian thing, but he is full of it. Plank is just as bad as everybody else around here. If I were Mill, I would never step foot on this rock again, especially after what he went through."

A concerned look crosses Menyoo's face, "What he went through?

Sbeit bites his tongue, but before he can backpedal, Mill steps back onto the ship, "Alright, sundown is approaching fast. Get your stuff together, we leave in five. And keep anything precious on you and hidden well.

The Jedi get their gear ready: Menyoo brings extra layers, expecting it to get cold fast; Sbeit keeps on what we was already wearing, too proud to bring contingency gear; and Mill brings a backpack, loaded with the notes left for them at the temple, extra layers of clothing, a snack and water (even though he already knows he is going to stop somewhere, he always does,) and he sneaks the Sith book that Sbeit could not translate, hiding it under the loose clothing. Mill leaves TC instructions to leave the doors locked and to not answer anybody unless it is one of the three Jedi. Then as a group, they all step out of the ship, to an assortment of alien aromas.

Mill warned Menyoo to not let his eyes linger on any one subject for too long; On Vakeyya, staring invites trouble, and sometimes what you are looking at may not look illegal until you realize your mistake too late. Both Menyoo and Mill immediately break the rule as soon as they step out to the port laid out ahead. They are docked in a spot at the edge of the port, where the roof hangs low, sheltering the bay from the harsh, plummeting sun. The port is tucked away into the crevice of a gigantic rock formation piled high into the sky; the same structure the city of Vakeyya, capital of Socorro, is nestled into. Looking out over the edge one can see the vast, bumpy sea of reddish-black sand that sprawls out as far as the eye can see. The only sign of life from this vantage point, far below and many kilometers away, is a small settlement equipped with white roofs across its handful of buildings, so small at this distance that they look like the last bits of melting snow being swallowed by an empty expanse of black—a visual effect resulting from the famed black sands of Socorro.

The ship to the left of them has an awning spread out from an open door, with several exotic animals for sale, tied to leashes and prowling the boundary of the salesmen's space. They are shaped like hounds, but taller, each about half the height of the salesman while on all fours. They each have blue scales that look like they are in danger of chipping off, with bones jutting out from their sides, shoulders, and cheeks. The tips of their long, triangular faces feature a beak protruding from underneath their long, narrow eye slits. Many more ships line the outside of the ovular dock facing in. Each peddles wares just as strange and ominous as the first man's: A cauldron with rising smoke colored coral orange is the centerpiece to one; while at another, several operating tables, oriented vertically, lean onto their edge, ornamented with bloody armor pinned with price tags. Marked fabrics, jars of spices, kegs of unknown liquids, used machine parts, star computers, electric policing staffs and riot shields, and much more. The center of the port features even more parked ships, their back ends wedged up against one another in the middle, with more merchandise spilling out from their fronts into the walking lanes winding between the various ships and shops. The fading red sun of Socorro bathes the seedy port in the last flush of crimson the long day passed has to offer.

Sbeit looks around briefly and makes no attempt to hide the disgust painted on his face. Mill and Menyoo sniff, look, and point around with enthusiasm. When Menyoo says, "This is all pretty cool, I can see why you get distracted so easily," Mill answers back with a laugh, "You have not seen anything yet! The port is full of all the low-quality stock the smugglers are trying to offload after they failed to sell it in the city. The good stuff is sold first through those doors back there leading into Vakeyya. That is where we're headed." Mill points to the far end of the port, "Tunnels bored through rock lead smugglers to whichever ward contains the shop that they sell their goods to. The shops then sell those goods with jacked up prices as 'special merchandise' to people who know what they are looking for, or who just happen to have too much money and stumble upon it. This stuff out here is junk."

A voice from behind speaks with a shrill, strained breath, "Watch what you call junk, stranger. Some people may take that the wrong way. Me included." The group turns to a man three quarters the size of Mill. He is hunched and leans on a broadsword, with plastic protectors running down the sharp ends, and a small cone at its tip for stability. He leans heavily down on the militaristic cane, forcing weight down on its tip, causing the plastic bits to flip open, revealing the sword's sharp teeth.

Sbeit steps ahead of the group, "He didn't mean anything by it, and didn't even look at what you sell before he said it. I'm sure your things are nice, he just got caught up in the moment. We'll leave you to yourself sir, good day."

Sbeit executes a quick bow and begins to walk away, grabbing the side of Mill's robe to drag him along beside him, when the elderly man stops him in his tracks, "wait, you said it yourself, you don't know what I sell. Allow me to show you my goods, then all will be forgiven." The old man lifts his cheeks in a forced smile, then turns abruptly and hobbles over to a tent jutting into the walking path that loops around the merchant stalls, slipping the broadsword into cracks in the concrete below him.

Menyoo steps behind him, "With all due respect sir, we are on a tight schedule."

Ignoring Menyoo, the man yells, "Behold! A treasure lost to the ages!" The old man stabs his broadsword into the concrete below, with a strength he clearly hides with purpose, and lays another sword across the top of its flat pommel. The smooth, polished blade is wide and slightly angled on both sides, meeting at opposite edges that run down the length of the black, cortosis blade, absorbing the last glimmers of red light escaping from the slit between the overhang and the edge of the port. The hilt appears to be constructed out of a single pocket of stone left untumbled. The guard curves down passed the handle, and is sharpened to a barbed point on each side, with rust extending several centimeters from the tips. The sword has Menyoo's attention.

'Wow, I have never seen something like this before. What era is it?"

Mill grabs Menyoo's forearm, "we should be going." Then he looks up at the man, avoiding eye contact, "Good day to you."

"Wait!" The old man tries to hold them longer, "It is clear you are not buying today, but the boy wants to know more about the sword. Allow me to share with him its history."

Sbeit interjects before he has the chance, "It is a Sith sword, I can tell by the guard. A barbaric, primeval weapon."

The old man's eyes widen with interest, "Aww, it seems you can. Have you studied the ancients before? You know many think them a myth. Something tells me you think different. Do you know what the guard is for?"

Menyoo lets out a pretentious laugh and answers, "to guard the carrier's hand in combat. It's a guard, of course he knows what it's for. Who wouldn't?"

Sbeit corrects him before the old man has the chance, "He is referring to this guard in particular. It isn't to protect the user's hands, actually quite the contrary. During a fight, a sword will naturally bob up and down in a fighter's palm. These guards are designed to cut and anchor into the wielder's wrists while he fights. That's why it aged the way it did, years and years of stained blood from use. As I said, barbaric."

Menyoo aggressively tilts his head to the side in a fit of confusion, "Why would they want to hurt themselves while they fight? That makes no sense."

The old man smiles, "Well my friend, it may not make sense to you, but that is because you do not understand the way they fight. That pain was a means to anger them, enrage them, and elevate their abilities. This anger powers more than just the blade, powering the user himself. Drawing from that pool of anger, pain, hate, makes them unstoppable. A handicap sure, but not for the Sith. It is a tool, much like your flimsy lightsaber. Except your kind did away with the guards. A poor decision, but who am I to judge such a sleek, gentlemen's weapon." The old man flashes a final, vicious smile.

Menyoo stumbles over his next utterance, "How did you…"

Mill interrupts Menyoo, 'We are leaving. Now." Sbeit grabs Menyoo by the shoulder and steers him toward the port exit behind Mill, weaving and bobbing through small crowds in the path ogling over the tawdry merchandise on display. "Do not look back," Mill commands as they march to the set of doors at the far end of the port. They reach the port exit and Mill huffs the extra air he was holding onto during their escape, "Let me add to my rules, don't talk to strangers. Follow me."

Mill raps on the doors. A large, purple hand with three fingers pushes it open for them to walk through. Mill puts his arm out to stop Menyoo, then says to the large man inside, "nothing special, just looking for information."

The man leans down, revealing his ugly mug. Blackish red circles decorate his right cheek and surround his eye—the largest of three eyes across his wide forehead. "In the bag?"

Mill responds, "papers, books, nothing to be traded, nothing taxable. On my honor." He puts his right hand into the air.

The giant grunts, then leans back against the tunnel wall, making way for the three to pass, "We'll be watching you human, and others."

"I know the drill, thank you." The group work their way through the tunnels. The path is tight and decorated with small fliers, legible only if placed near one of the occasional lights that keep about a fifth of the tunnel lit. No others walk by them in the opposite direction, which is good, because there is barely enough room for one person to fit. Menyoo wonders to himself how the big oaf travels through these tunnels, especially parts where the tunnel shrinks vertically, leaving only a slight bit of extra room for Menyoo to pass under. In two of the tightest areas of the walk, the sound of Sbeit's head crest scraping against the stone roof continued intermittently for minutes at a time. The posters are cheesy and clearly advertise for things other than what are explicitly stated and pictured on the fliers. "Have your droid reprogrammed at the chop shop near the cradle! Many programs available, but not found nowhere else!" Or another one that reads, "Come by Skid's for a refreshing treat! We serve everything iced, so come in if you want something iced. We ice things. Knock first."

They walk for some time in the fluctuating darkness, across tunnels that undulate among drastic peaks and dips, branch off in multiple directions, and snake through increasingly dense and stuffy rock. Menyoo asks Mill, "You have memorized your way through this system?"

Mill continues leading the way, speaking ahead, his response echoing forward through the tunnel and rebounds back to Menyoo with a delay, "No, but I know how to get to Plank's and back. These tunnels cut through a section of the large rock that the city was built into. Each fork leads you to either a district smuggling entrance, which are usually the back entrances of a general merch shop, or continues further into the rock. We're close."

Menyoo thinks more about the city as they walk and asks another question that has been bothering him, "Mill, what is the point of all the secrecy with smuggling, if it isn't policed here? I can't imagine it is this big of an operation and kept from city officials. So what is the need for secret ports, tunnels, codes, guards, etc?

Mill laughs to himself, seemingly unaware of his lack of privacy while encased in the sound-reflective stone, "Well, the city used to be better patrolled, back when people cared. Routine stops, random waves of enforcement, and lots of beat downs. Honestly, the police were just as brutal as the thugs, if not more. But things have changed. Now it's all a scheme to control the smuggling and get coin out of every stage of the process. Even these tiny tunnels aren't necessary anymore, they have a much wider one several meters wide and tall that leads directly into the heart of the shopping district. It became worthwhile to make new ones when they had to turn around good business because the goods, or smugglers themselves, wouldn't fit. We're taking these because surprise, it costs money to take the big one. The docking fee, tax on smuggled goods, protection fees, bribes if an official does catch you. All of it goes to the same place.

"Which is…?" Menyoo asks.

"Good question," Mill answers, "Oh, this is our turn."

The Jedi work through the final section of tunnel, wider than the rest, ending at a tarp stuck closed to the tunnel wall with a re-applicable adhesive. Mill peels it off from the wall, then brushes open the barrier and steps out onto a grated floor. He breathes in the smog ridden, rancid city air and exclaims, "Ahh, I'm home. Kind of."


	21. Chapter 21

The Jedi step out of the tunnel onto a raised platform wedged between the tunnel exit and the back wall of a building. The platform is bent at a slight curve, escalating up the side of the massive rock formation to their left, or to the right lowers into the city. Menyoo turns to look at the tarp that Mill closed behind them, and cannot help but comment on how the faded and blotchy brown coating over the tarp makes it stand out from the rest of the rock. Whoever runs this smuggling operation clearly does not fear it being exposed. Mill and company make their way down the ramp. At their feet, small raised bars spaced 20 centimeters apart help with their footing— necessary for smugglers carrying heavy contraband down the grated walkway. Bits and pieces of the City peak out from slits between neighboring buildings. Small bulbs in petal-shaped glass hang above the streets, about level with the Jedi, four meters in the air. Approximately every third bulb is out, and since the lights are spaced several meters apart, this leaves wide swathes of the street impossibly dark—and too dangerous for leisurely travel.

Menyoo is surprised to see how quickly the sun had gone down, and the quick difference in temperature it has made. He wants to put on his pull over, but does not want to give Mill the satisfaction, and notes his childishness for thinking that way, but confounds it with stubbornness. The team continues to wind down the platform until the decline tapers, ending where the grating meets the ground. The path leads them directly in front of a general merchandise shop. The building looks to be made out of a tent and clay brick hybrid, shaped like a rectangle with a triangular roof. The bricks lay stacked on one another with thick tarp-like material hanging from the spaces between each brick.

Mill turns to the left and begins walking, when Sbeit audibly clears his throat, "I remember us taking a right at this point. I know it has been years, but my memory is not failing me. Has Plank changed residence or…?" Sbeit holds the _r_ so that Mill must interrupt him with an answer.

"No, same place. I just wanted to, uh," Sbeit's features drop in opposition before he commences a callous stare, until Mill reconsiders, "Fine, we'll go right to Planks. But Menyoo and I are going to take a trip without you some time, and it will be great."

Sbeit starts walking before Mill can finish his thought, taking the lead for the remainder of the walk. Menyoo and Mill fall in behind Sbeit as he grumbles to himself, "Fine by me, I never liked this place anyway." After a minute, Sbeit turns back to face Menyoo, "Menyoo, stay sharp." That shook Menyoo out of his lull. He was examining the many layers of the city. Ostensibly, very little is happening at night. Each set of lights hanging above them illuminates a circle of light about a meter in diameter in the center of the street, yet nothing sits under or crosses through the light, creating the impression of a subdued nightlife. As the eyes focus in the dark, small objects surrounding each lit circle come into view: the end of somebody's leg who is sitting on the ground nearby, the handle to a wheelbarrow, the passing tails of street pets, or rodents. Affording a closer look reveals an entirely different scene in the areas entrenched in the black: small huddles of people in thin alleyways between shops; mats and other makeshift bed material lay across the city floor; one alley has a small table set up only a half a meter off the ground, surrounded by men rolling dice in the dark.

Each building is about the same size, with varying color schemes dyed into the desultory tarp-material hanging from between bricks, dimmed and obscured by lifetimes of dirt and neglect. Almost every shop has activity inside, but only half of the store fronts are open to the public. For those curious enough to enter the other half, side access from the crude alleys is available, evident by the bobbing legs of people rummaging through goods or bartering with shop keeps under the closed entry fabrics. A few of the shops feature a small window and ledge that separates the owner from the people outside. These shops are completely black inside, but business is still being done through most of them; the buyers lean in through the window to speak with the salesmen inside.

One alley they pass is lit with red, flickering bulbs. The silhouettes of people can be seen standing near the entrance, but far enough in that none of their distinguishable features can be made out. Menyoo speeds up a bit to walk beside Mill and asks him what happens down those alleys; he remembers seeing similar lighting in-between a pair of buildings while descending from the tunnel exit. Mill whispers to him, "Especially avoid areas like that, don't even look inside. Dangerous guys hang out in there. Here on Soccoro, there is a drug called Spice. It's all over the outer rims, but here on Vakeyya, it is everywhere. The red lights mean it's a spice den, for people who need a fix. Only half of them have spice in them, the other half are full of thugs ready to take your money and rough you up, or worse. The locations change every night, so nobody knows which are which unless they know somebody who runs one.

Menyoo has trouble making sense of that system. "But why would anybody take the chance if it is that likely that you'll just get mugged and beaten?"

Mill looks at Menyoo's right eye and says with a sad expression, "when some people need a fix, they don't have a choice. Vakeyya is a place for a lot of things and a lot of people. The vulnerable are not those people. That being said, it has a way of making strong people vulnerable. As I said before, don't stare, eyes ahead."

Menyoo continues to walk and study his surroundings. They pass through one section of the street where two of the hanging lights are out in a row, creating a hall of darkness down the center. Chatter and whispers defy the apparent lack of life down the dreadful corridor. Menyoo takes two steps into the dark, and bumps into somebody standing in the center of the street. An alien shout rings out from the loitering mass, and Menyoo backs up quickly, hiding from the upset pedestrian. A hand clasps around his wrist and pulls him farther into the street. He follows in the direction of his shepherd, but resists the physical contact by twisting his wrist away from the strange hand. Mill comforts him with a whisper, "With me."

They walk into the next cone of light and Menyoo exhales, "thank you."

Mill smiles and says, "Don't mention it. I know it's a tad scary, but it's not so bad when you get used to it. And we have to try street food before we leave, that will make you change your mind about this place in an instant! There are none on this strip, but we'll pass some on our way back to this district's tunnel exit. It's farther down from where we left the tunnels. You won't be disappointed,"

Menyoo smiles at Mill, appreciating his attempt to comfort him, "I'll look forward to it. Your treat." Mill's face curves to fit a toothy grin, then he forcefully pats Menyoo on the shoulder and continues on behind Sbeit. All things considered, Menyoo does not hate the city, and certainly not as much as Sbeit. The divisions between people and the street politics are fascinating, but admittedly scary too. He has yet to see a single person he would want to talk with, but he would like to stop and look at some of the shops. Unfortunately, that would have to be a return trip, as Mill said. Was he serious about taking Menyoo back to visit? With no mission or objective, just to visit? He figures it would be best not to ask, especially with Sbeit ahead in ear shot, but that wouldn't be a bad trip, Menyoo thinks to himself.

The group moves in a diagonal formation so that when they cross through the dark sections stationed between each hovering light, a shoulder or foot is under a lamp from either Sbeit in the front, or Menyoo in the back. The group is pretty well protected, but the most vulnerable is Menyoo in the back. He pushes that thought out of his mind. They walk for another couple minutes, until the line stops moving forward. Sbeit stopped under a dome of light—which appears to be the last lamp on the street— leaving Menyoo in a patch of black. Sbeit waves them forward, then takes a step into the darkness ahead. Mill leans back and says to Menyoo, "We're here. quick tip, don't touch anything inside. Plank is wary about strangers." Menyoo nods and steps through the last circle of light before plunging into the dark with his companions.

They walk past the last shop in the street, and face a fork with both roads leading into darkness, featuring patches of rock and dirt running up the middle of the two paths. On the left side is a long building, different from the rest: It is short and looks to be constructed by one long rectangle, with four squares added on to each corner, and a domed center over the top adding half a meter to its height. The building is not brick and tarp like the shops, but one solid, chalky-grey material, like a stone dwelling, but not orange like the majority of rocks found on the planet. Mill makes his way to the front and steps up to a circular metal door— one of the first metal fixtures Menyoo has seen since being here. Mill knocks on the door. He then whispers, "come on," and Menyoo and Sbeit follow him to the back end of the dwelling. Mill feels the wall in the dark until he comes across another section of metal, then knocks on it too. A couple seconds pass, then somebody speaks through the door, "business?"

Mill clears his throat, "always pleasure my friend, you know better."

Another couple seconds pass. Mill's eyes dart back and forth near the top of his eye lids, inspecting the building. He hopes Sbeit picked the right place, because this is the sort of thing that could get somebody into trouble on Socorro if not. "Kandor, is that you?"

"Oh, thank the force," he mutters to himself in relief. "Yes, it's Mill. open up!"

"Anybody with you? You don't have your glowstick on, I can't see anything."

"Yes, two actually, but they're friendly. Jedi."

"Hmm, one stays outside. Things have been touchy around here as of late."

Mill looks at Menyoo, then Sbeit. Menyoo begins to tell Sbeit he can go ahead, but Sbeit quickly dispels his politeness, "Please, I insist. No hide off my back."

An electric sound rises from the crack under the door, gets increasingly louder, then stops. A second passes in silence, then the door opens from inside with a gentle push. Mill and Menyoo step in. Mill immediately accosts his friend with an enthusiastic handshake, covering Plank's knuckles with his other hand as an extra friendly gesture. This is the first Neimoidian Menyoo has seen in person, but he has seen plenty on his holovids. They are the target of many jokes in galactic programming for their robotic behavior, insatiable greed, and the funny way they talk. Most Neimoidians have a wicked accent, consisting of a breathy drawl, and a manner of speaking that makes it sound like they are always answering after having been surprised. This Neimoidian is taller than what he has seen on his holovids, standing well over two meters tall, with long, skinny fingers to match. The headdresses they wear add significantly to their height, and Plank's was no exception, being about half a meter tall of colorless fabric, thick and bunched at the bottom and folding craftily into a point at the top. Although Menyoo does not know what they look like under the bland, full body robes they wear, he assumes they have a sluggish body, based on their wrinkly, slimy faces and large, amber sack-like eyes.

The room is dark and cramped, or at least it feels stuffy to Menyoo. The outer perimeter of the room is cloaked in shadow, so he cannot see well enough to accurately gauge how far the room extends. The building cannot be too long judging by the walk from the front door to the back.

Plank looks at Mill, then Menyoo, back to Mill, "Another apprentice? What happened to the green one?" He waves his bony fingers down dismissively when he says _the green one._

"Sbeit, he was our third you had remain outside. This is Menyoo. Menyoo, Plank. And Padawan, we do not have apprentices. But no, Menyoo is just tagging along for the mission. And Sbeit is no longer my padawan, he is a full Jedi now. You already know all this, don't play coy. You probably know more about him and me then him and I do."

The Neimoidian smiles— rigidly and with mercantile intentions, but a smile nonetheless, "You are too kind, but yes you are right. However I do not sell information on friends," another forced smile follows that comment," What is it you have come for? And how would you like to pay for my services?"

Mill laughs and looks down at the floor that he likely cannot see, then looks back up at him, "Plank, we have known each other a long time. Since I was a kid! Remember when I was a kid, I was so cute wasn't I? And my father and I have done favors for you before, and over the years, then it was just me, and you've done favors for me too, and we go back and forth doing favors for each other…"

Plank snorts, "You have no money and waste my time. It isn't that I am not happy to see you, but as I said, I have sensitive matters to tend to." Plank begins herding Mill and Menyoo toward the door, waving his hand and telling him how he hopes to see them again soon.

Mill stands stiff in place and takes on a more serious tone, "Look Plank, it is a small favor. I just want to pick your brain. And besides, you owe me after sending Sbeit and me to those mines without warning us first. And, I ought to add, I have not heard from you since." Plank stops pushing him out the door, but the look on his face suggests he won't be giving in. Mill continues with his rhetoric, "I mean it, it will be quick. I just need you to read a paragraph and point your finger in the right direction. Then we'll be out of your… uh, head thing."

Mill and Plank go back and forth about what they have done, and whether any favors are owed between one another. Plank does not accept that Mill has an unclaimed favor, and Mill is saying anything he can to get him to look over the passage. The crafty, avarice-driven stereotype of the Neimoidians seems to hold true with Plank. He clearly remembers anything that relates to value, currency, or exchange, and seems to be the type that can derive value out of anything he can get his lanky fingers on. Plank is adamant on his position, but seems to be giving in to Mill's passion; however, Menyoo can see that this will end up costing Mill in the long run, trusting that Plank has his ways of making sure of it. Between his crude appearance, incorrigible greed, and passive interest in friends and associates, Menyoo can't help but think of the banking clan from Mygeeto when Plank speaks, and five minutes into meeting him, he already understands why Sbeit hates him. That being said, Mill never said he particularly liked him either. If he is useful, Menyoo should keep him in mind for the future.

After Mill makes it clear they have already wasted enough time going back and forth, which Plank pointedly states has been five minutes and 43 seconds—_wow, he really does itemize everything,_ Menyoo thinks to himself— they settle on an agreement: Mill and Plank were in fact equal hitherto this meeting, but after he helps this time, Mill will owe him a favor—something Mill guarantees to be a good thing to own from a Jedi, which of course Plank already knew and took into consideration. Plank walks over to a desk and turns on a small light built into it. It lights up the surface of the desk only, causing the rest of the room in contrast to fade further into the darkness. Plank reads the passage quietly to himself, then gets up and walks to one of the hidden corners. He returns with a book. He looks back and forth between the two, then closes the book abruptly and says at Mill, "easy, I know exactly where you are to go."

Mill puts his hand up in the air, "two minutes, you really are the best Plank. I told you Menyoo. So where are we off to? And who is D.G.?"

Plank hands the delicate papers back to Mill and says, "Only where, I do not now to whom. _Between lost roads protected by a shield of black_, the roads are the Kamat Aegit and Kamat Krote, and the black shield is the Stygian Caldera. They are ancient hyperlanes through what was once Sith space. The Stygian Caldera is a nebula, and immensely dangerous and difficult to pass through. I would recommend avoiding it at all cost. The planet is Jaguada, that is all it could be. Dusty rock, nothing of value there, barren desert wasteland. Good luck. If there is a home there, it should be easy to find, it will be the only one. That is all."  
He again begins rushing the jedi toward the door before Mill can even put away the papers, "Hold on, hold on, you don't know anything about D.G. or who wrote these? None of your books can help? I would like to know what we are getting ourselves into."

"I have a theory, but I cannot share it with you. I will say I think it best you stay away from that place. Especially with your, uh, background. I fear if you go to Jaguada, I will not see that favor you now owe me, and then Sbeit will have to come and pay me back instead. That would be a shame."

"Whoa, then tell me your theory at least. Please? Come on, we go way back. I have kept secrets for you. You know you can trust me. I'll send Menyoo out." He then looks at Menyoo, "sorry, but then I'll share the okay bits with you."

Plank shakes his head with certainty, "This is different. I am not afraid you will say anything, I am simply afraid of uttering a name. Please leave me, much work I have to do. Thank you again. You will hear from me."

This time Plank gently places his hands on both Mill and Menyoo's shoulders before attempting to push them out the door. Menyoo arches his back to avoid the Neimoidian's touch. Mill presses back against the force of his hand, letting the backpack fall slack off his shoulder, "Just one more thing quick, I have a book. Could you just look at it and tell me what language it is so when I need it translated, I can go to the right person. It is unlike anything I have ever seen." Plank shakes his head and keeps pushing, but Mill is resilient, "Come on, you know when I come to pay you back, it will take far longer than two minutes. Just a quick look, it's right here in my bag."

The three stand grouped near the back door, while Mill hunkers down to protest Plank's refusal. Plank sighs aggressively and says, "Fine, give it here. Quickly." He opens the book and fingers through the pages, his leading digit nearly as long as the book itself. He reads for a bit, then says abruptly, "No" then closes the book. "You must leave, do not show that to anybody else."

He continues his pushing, this time more aggressively. Menyoo opens the door and hops out before the Neimoidian leans over him to open it himself—avoiding close proximity with his sluggish face. Mill turns back one final time, "What is it now? I just want to know the language! Why can't you tell me at least that?"

Plank becomes precariously serious and shooshes Mill, then extends his head forward out of his door and looks in both directions before speaking directly into Mill's face, "You are right, I have known you for a long time. So, I ask you this. Whatever you are getting yourself into it, get away from it now. As a business partner, and out of respect to your old care-taker, burn the book, or throw it off a cliff, and do not go to Jaguada." Then before another moment passes, he slams the door. A whirl of electricity buzzes through the door again.

The three leave the way they came, winding through the streets with attentive eyes. Sbeit argues with Mill about going to Jaguada, assuring both of them multiple times that this is the only time he will agree with Plank. Mill keeps saying the same thing he has said the entire time: it is his mission, and if Sbeit does not like it, he does not have to be part of it. The two go back and forth similarly the whole walk back. They pass by the first shop in the circuit, where the tunnel dumps smugglers into this district, and continue past toward the exit leading back to the port. After only a minute since passing the general store, Menyoo begins smelling the food Mill spoke so highly of. His hunger makes itself known through angry rumbles in his stomach. As the two senior Jedi fight back and forth, Menyoo works his way in between them. "So Mill, are you keeping an eye out for what you want to eat? Or do you have a place in mind already?"

Sbeit rolls his eyes, "ugh, not you too."

Without averting his eyes from the path ahead, Mill says to Menyoo, "Actually, no food for now. I'm trying to get us to a courtyard that I remember from when I was a kid. It sits a level below this district. There will be less people there this time of night."

Menyoo and Sbeit both look at Mill with confused expressions, "Why?"

Mill says back, still watching ahead vigilantly, "Because I don't want any civilians to get hurt. We're being followed."


	22. Chapter 22

Mill charges ahead, turning every which way through the streets, avoiding the beams of light from overhead and blending into each small crowd gathered in the dark. Menyoo and Sbeit struggle to keep up with him, while occasionally glancing behind to identify who is following them. Mill walks into an exceptionally large gathering of rough looking individuals, shoves his way directly through the center of a couple men—stirring up the crowd—then briskly shouts behind him, "with me," before cutting to his right down an alley.

Menyoo and Mill lurch their way out of the miniature mob that had formed, escaping the ensuing shouting and scuffling that could be heard from where they had entered. Sbeit rushes up and grabs Mill's arm, "Hey, Menyoo and I don't see anybody. What has you so worried?"

Mill was stopped at the end of the alley, where a meter-tall stone ledge extends down the backside of several shops, providing a barrier between the open alleys and a ten-meter drop down to the next level of the city. He turns to Sbeit and says, "I didn't see him, I felt him. I have felt him since we left the tunnel, but I didn't know he was here for us. I do now because he followed us to Plank's, stopped moving when we arrived, then began following again once we left. He could just be a council spy, or a local who was placed on our tail. Or, he could be something much worse. Either way, we have to confront him to know for sure, and we aren't leaving until we know."

Sbeit stutters on his words, "But I, we, don't, I don't sense anybody. If he is that strong we should have sensed him too. Is there something you are not telling me?"

Mill rests his hand on Sbeit's shoulder, "No, you just have to learn to sort out the many energies here on the planet. It can be hard to pick up on one specific source, but each energy carries with it a set of intentions, moods, feelings." Mill uses Sbeit's shoulder as support to lift himself up onto the barrier, "many people here have bad intentions and work under conditions of high stress. It's easy to read through their signatures if you are attuned to look for such things. But only one such signature has been traveling an equidistance from us and in the same direction as we have. Also, he is close. Up and over," then without warning, Mill jumps off the side of the barrier down into the lower level of the city.

He lands on a grated walkway, like the one that lowered them from the tunnel exit when they first arrived in the city. "Come on down! And hurry, he or she isn't far behind." Sbeit pulls himself over next and blindly jumps down to the walkway below where Mill awaits him, instinctually bending his knee to absorb the shock when he hits the rigid metal. Menyoo is next up on the ledge. Mill yells up to him, "about 3 meters, you know what to do!" Without hesitation, Menyoo steps off, falling to join his friends. He lands right next to Mill, who steadies his back after he wobbles upon landing. The jedi work their way down the stairs, skipping a step each stride to hurry into position for their stalker. Once they reach the bottom of the stairs, Mill immediately turns to his left and continues at the same pace.

This part of the city is different: the lights come from tilted street lamps with bases anchored into the ground, and the lights are white—unlike the dingy yellow ones above. These lights, due to their angle and placement, cover much more of the street, which appears virtually empty, but as Menyoo has learned, that may just mean the inhabitants are hidden out of sight.

The path continues along for a minute's worth of speed walking until the group reaches a round plaza. A long, paved walkway surrounds the exterior of a massive stone commons area, with a ring of lamp posts stretching along the back half illuminating the stonework. Behind the lamps sits empty land composed of pebble-sized sediment that is too dark to be seen far into. The plaza masonry features one large engraving cut into the rock. The picture is hard to work out, as the image was made to be viewed from above, likely from the hill that looms over the small arena. The hill is where the Jedi would have ended up had they not cut through the alley; the streets of Vakeyya weave continuously down-hill until reaching the pit of the city at the very bottom.

Between the hill and road above them, and the center of the plaza, stand the focal points of the public decorum: three tall stone statues, 5 meters in height, with unchiseled cubed bases that gradually morph into the images of men, unveiling increasingly complex features as one's eyes works their way up the front of the imposing monoliths. Each sculpted man holds his hands cupped full of different materials: the man to the left appears to be cupping a handful of water; the statue to the right holds sand (an impressive illusion considering it is a single column of stone;) and the statue in the very middle holds a shovel in his hands, with the handle extending down to the base, where the blade melds with the stone at his foot.

Menyoo stares up at them in silence, while Mill and Sbeit survey their surroundings. Mill pulls Menyoo out of his trance, "hey, with us. I need you to walk the outskirts and displace anybody who would be too close to the action. It's happening here. Once you know everybody is at a safe distance, stay out of sight, but be prepared to defend yourself in case they make a move on you." Menyoo nods then leaves to see to his task, disappearing into the shadow-laden perimeter. Mill then looks to Sbeit, whose chest is puffed out and jouncing in preparation for a fight. "Sbeit."

Sbeit's head springs to the right to face Mill, "I'm staying with you."

Mill lowers his legs into a defensive stance and rests his hand along the hilt of his weapon, "I was going to say he's here." Sbeit in turn enters into his stance; his has a slighter bend at the knees, prioritizing reach and mobility over defensive posture. Walking toward them from the street the three jedi used as a shortcut approaches a figure the size of an average human, with a cheap brown cloak covering the head and face, and extending down to its calves. It walks up with its arms stiff, and a confident lope that covers ground quickly. Mill and Sbeit watch as it positions itself 5 meters away— half the length of the stone plaza. Mill relaxes his stance and tells the stranger, "look, it is clear you have business with us. We are busy men, so it is to our benefit that we make this quick. Are you working for somebody? Is this personal? Is there any way we can avoid violence? Is this a dead or alive situation? What are we working with?"

The person facing them looks Sbeit up and down first, then turns to Mill. The figure places its left leg far back behind its right and lowers its back by thirty centimeters. A male voice drones from under the cloak, "Mill Kandor, my business is with you alone." The man straightens his arm behind his back, causing the cloak to fall to the ground and reveal his slender frame underneath. The man is fitted with a tight, crimson tunic hugged by a black holster running diagonally around the shoulder, connecting horizontally around the midsection. On the chest strap, a lightsaber is clasped and hanging down to his stomach. A blaster is holstered at his side. An undertunic accents the v at his chest with a lighter red, and a black belt sits over a decorative sash at his waist. The man is dressed unlike anybody Mill has ever seen, clearly equipped as a jedi would be and sporting similar garbs, but featuring colors unseen in the order.

Mill says to Sbeit while keeping his eyes on the unknown visitor, "sit this one out, and get Menyoo to safety if I'm in over my head. He's a jedi and here for me. This may get me kicked out of the order if he is legit."

Sbeit answers back, "You're going to fight him still?" Then Sbeit yells to the crimson Jedi, "are you on council orders!? If so, we will go back with you. There is no need for a fight!"

Mill puts his hand over Sbeit's chest, "enough. Do as I said. He is here to kill me, I can sense it. There is no reasoning with him. Go to Menyoo and watch for an advantage. His or mine."

"Mill, you had better not kill him. There must be an explanation."

"I won't, now go!"

Sbeit straightens his body and runs toward the outskirts of the arena to join with Menyoo. Mill pulls out his lightsaber and ignites the blue blade. He lowers his legs once again, placing his weight on his back foot and bringing the blade up over his head with two hands, tilting the blade diagonally over his face, "Okay, now it's just the two of us."

The Jedi opposite Mill, still lowered into position, bolts toward Mill with tremendous force off his back leg. The jedi ignites his lightsaber mid-approach after filling the 5 meter gap in mere seconds, leaving a pulsating trail of blue afterimages in the wake of his rush. The assailant begins with an extended lunge at Mill's gut, but Mill, skilled in the Djem So variant of form five, immediately sidesteps the lunge and meets the stab with an underhand parry that ricochets the attack into the air. Mill tries to follow up with a side slash, but his enemy backflipped out of the strong parry, using Mill's force to his advantage. He lands, then kicking off with the foot he landed on, immediately moves in for another attack at a blinding speed. He darts past Mill with his back arched in an attempt to cut through his side, but Mill was able to lower his lightsaber in time. Catching the tip of the other blade, Mill catapults it into the ground beside his right foot, sending his assailant to his knees.

The jedi stands back up immediately and wildly twists his blade in diagonal patterns over his chest, closing distance with Mill once again. Mill backs up, trying to anticipate an attack that he can counter— a particular strength of Mill's, especially against a form four user. Unfortunately for Mill, this jedi is a good lightsaber dueler— an outdated Jedi skill reserved for specialty classes. The Jedi takes an aggressive step forward, and begins a flurry of sporadic attacks that hammer at Mill's defenses. Mill manages to block each one, before the jedi twists his body and lowers to one knee. He faints with a weak stab, then follows up with a wicked fast grab at his side. Unholstering his gun he shoots at Mill's left foot. Mill saw the move the moment he redirected the stab; he lowers his lightsaber to the ground and deflects the bolt back at the Jedi. The jedi rolls sideways out of the trajectory, and begins another flurry of attacks without a moments rest. Mill continues to block each attack, but is forced back by each strike, carrying the struggle over to the front of the statues.

Mill discovers a pattern in his strikes, then spots a weakness in his transition from lower to higher strikes. Taking advantage, Mill feigns losing the struggle, and the jedi presses his advantage with harder strikes, slowing each successive swing. As he transitions into his higher stance, Mill thrusts his saber into the space between the jedi's forearm and bicep, holding the ultra-heated plasma to his neck. The assassin takes his left hand off the lightsaber and holds it in the air, then begins lowering himself in surrender. Mill traces his movement, keeping the blade close to his neck.

The fighter continues to lower himself to the ground, until Mill opens his mouth to make demands, at which point he drops the saber from his right hand, catches it in his left, and makes a desperate slash at Mill's waist. Mill backs up in the nick of time, pulling his light saber out straight to avoid accidentally killing his assailant, and narrowly dodging the wild slash at his waist.

Another round of back and forth strikes and blocks ensues: swing, block, swing, parry, counter-attack, dodge, swing. The two warriors exchange blows for a couple of minutes, dancing along the stonework underfoot, providing a spectacle of light as the azure blades bounce off one another in rapid succession. The jedi assassin grows increasingly impatient at their matching prowess. Mill continues to pick out patterns in his opponent's behavior, and takes advantage of each weakness to get in counter-attacks between blocks. The assassin is resilient and acute, correcting each flawed move Mill capitalizes on. Mill's opponent resolves to end the fight quickly, and begins using an abundance of the force in his following movements, applying extra force to each strike, and moving at an increased speed between slashes. Mill holds his composure, blocking and countering between predictable movements, but the attacks grow wilder, as the Jedi resorts to jumping into the air, sliding, and spinning amongst his attacks. Between a series of blocks, Mill shouts to his opponent, "I had you beat. It would have been honorable to surrender!"

The Jedi took another cheap shot with his blaster at Mill's center of mass. Mill deflects it into the air, leaving his chest open for the opportunistic assassin to kick off the ground with a force-infused lunge, directing the tip of his weapon at Mill's heart. Mill lowers his blade in time to tilt the end of the opposing saber and hold him at the chest, interlocking their weapons in a test of strength. The two blades vie for dominance. The Jedi leans into the X formed by the two sabers and says back to Mill, "I don't fight for honor, I fight to complete my objectives." He then lowers his body and thrusts his shoulders into the air, sending Mill's arms and saber above his head. Within one fluid motion, he uses the momentum of his propulsion to transition into a back flip and kicks the hilt of Mill's lightsaber, sending it high into the air above his head. The assassin lands on his feet, then kicks off the ground once more, with his lightsaber trained on Mill's heart once more. Mill uses his trick against him; willing the lightsaber back toward his hand, he forces his weapon back down to the ground, catches it during its descent, and infusing the force into a downward swing, intercepts the rival lightsaber with enough force to make the assassin stumble and fall forward.

Embarrassed and frustrated, he picks himself up off the ground, straightens his posture, and glares at Mill with killer intent in his eyes. He brushes off the dusty red fabric on his chest, then begins circling Mill, staring with revulsion. Mill stands stationary, turning on every third step to keep his opponent at his front. "Who do you work for?" Mill asks, steadying his blade in preparation for another rapid assault. The Jedi says nothing, and continues to circle his prey. Mill powers down his lightsaber. "Please, we can reach an agreement. We are evenly matched, so let's settle this with our words." The assassin turns his head from side to side in a slow, creepy fashion; his eyes remain locked onto Mill's, burning with enmity.

Mill sighs, then reignites his weapon. Following in his adversary's stead, they form a new circle as they stalk one another with intense concentration. Mill breaks the respite first by taking a step forward, but his foe responds with greater aggression. The assassin sends a force push at the ground between them, causing a flurry of dust and sand to bombard Mill's face. He clenches his jaw closed to avoid breathing in the harsh pollutants, and brings his saber down to his chest to block an incoming attack. As expected, the Jedi ran up the middle and took a wide slash at Mill's waist. Despite the debris in his eyes, Mill was too fast. Catching the blade under its tip, he forces the lightsaber into the air, staggering the Jedi and opening his right side to Mill. Mill follows the parry with a sideways kick, hurting both the ribs and the pride of the opposing Jedi. He rolls out of the kick, holding his side in pain. He backs up until he reaches the statues. Mill closes in, pressing his advantage.

Seeing no way around, the Jedi decides to make one last desperate attack. He jumps halfway up the statue, then uses it as a spring board to launch himself at Mill. Mill finds his center of mass, goes into a deep squat, and braces for impact. The Jedi slams his light saber into Mill's, sending Mill toppling over onto his back. Enraged, the assassin lifts his blade and hammers another strike down unto Mill. Mill blocks the next attack, but struggles to keep the lightsaber from breaching his defenses while he tries to clamber backward away from the assault. After five overhead swings at Mill's abdomen, with increasing force behind each blow, Mill establishes a lock between his opponent's weapon and his own. During the struggle, Mill kicks the assassin's shin, causing him to limp away and giving Mill time to roll backward onto his feet.

Mill goes on the offensive. With a slew of controlled attacks from different directions, he forces his opponent back toward the statues, acknowledging a lack of training in his defensive technique. The assassin hops back a meter and pulls out his blaster. He jumps up to the base of the middle statue, scrambles up the center using the narrowly sculpted shovel's shaft as a grip, then leaps off a fold in the man's robe and lands in the clenched hands protruding from the front. The blue glow surrounding the statue fades as the assassin turns off his lightsaber. Leveling his blaster, he rains a cluster of bolts down on Mill.

Mill does his best to deflect them somewhere safe, but several stray bolts go flying up over the hill. Mill reflects one bolt back at the shooter by mistake. In response, the assassin begins jumping back and forth between the statues, shooting wildly at Mill. Mill does his best to keep the bolts under control, but they come too fast for Mill to ground each one. A few bolts deflect up over the hill again, while a handful of others hit the statues. The Jedi does a side flip back onto the central statue as one bolt hits the center of it, jeopardizing the integrity of the structure. The assassin continues to shoot at Mill, and Mill in turn continues to deflect the barrage, but he starts to lose concentration due to the physical and mental tax.

Mill reflects a few more toward the assassin, which serves to anger him more. In response, with one hand he continues to shoot liberally at Mill; while with the other, he pulls his lightsaber out once more and reaches for stray bolts to send back at Mill. A furious light display begins as glowing blue sticks wave back and forth to contain an increasingly rhythmic ping pong of red light-beams bouncing between them. As the chaos ensues, so does the destruction. As the environmental damage becomes apparent in the fighter's arena, Mill begins to worry about the population above. The lavish masonry work under Mill's feet has already been scarred by long, black streaks, and chunks of stone crumble off the statue as renegade bolts wreck the monolithic artwork. Recognizing that he cannot handle much more, Mill begins looking for a way to end the fight quickly when he gets a lucky break.

The blaster runs out of ammunition. The Jedi clicks his blaster three times, then realizing he had lost count of his shots, once again disignites his lightsaber and scrambles for a gas cartridge. Mill, fearful of another round of the shooting gallery, panics and reaches out to the force for an answer. Various scenarios play out in his head at once, as if the force were presenting to him his options on a reel: one sequence shows him climbing up the statue and continuing the duel atop it as it crumbles; another shows him running deeper into the city, toward the dark outskirts of the plaza where Sbeit and Menyoo are hiding, which ends in him taking two blaster bolts in the back; and the third and final scenario features Mill reaching his hand toward his assailant and putting him into some sort of statis, tensing his body and causing him to drop the gas cartridge in the process. Mill comes to as the present continues along just as it was before the visions played out in his head: the assassin reaches for more ammunition, and Mill is still contemplating his next move.

He stretches his hand out toward his enemy, just as he was shown, and he feels something happen. It feels as if he were holding a long hook, and digging into the assassin above—like a fisherman with a catch on the line. Mill feels the tendrils of the force work their way into the assassin, creep over his skin and dig under the surface, before his hand begins to tense. It is a similar sensation to how he felt when he created the implosion above the bridge back on Mygeeto. He feels a need to take control, to grab at the reigns and release a malicious energy from his body. Mill squeezes, but this time it feels more like pulling; the invisible tendrils continue to dig into the Jedi. Also similar to his experience on Mygeeto, the move saps all of Mill's strength, taking all of Mill's reserves putting it toward this last desperate move. His arms begin to shake. His heart pounds through his chest. Mill holds on, fighting through the pain and discomfort to pull at whatever force construct is binding him to his foe. He looks up at the assassin and the picturesque moment plays out in real time before his eyes: his body becomes tense, before ceasing to move altogether. His back arcs as his arms drop weightlessly to his side. The gas cartridge slips out of his fingers and drops to the ground below. This is the point that the vision cut out, concealing the consequences that follow.

Mill becomes light headed and drops down to one knee. He steadies himself to keep from passing out. Looking up at the assassin, Mill watches through blurred vision his adversary beginning to move. The assassin looks around frantically, then down at his fingertips, assessing them for some devious trick. The assassin panics as he paces the small area of the statue that he trapped himself on. Hunks of stone continue to fall from the structure, hitting the ground with incredible force, leaving divots and chipping sections of the stone courtyard. The assassin bends and straightens his knee in rapid succession, preparing for a jump he should have no trouble making. As an audible crack forms toward the backside of the monument, the Jedi panics and leaps from the statue.

A weak jump for Jedi standards, he only makes it about 2 and a half meters, bounces off the side of the adjacent statue. Gravity rushes his body to the ground. He tries to roll out of it, but on impact, a nasty pop reverberates off the stone as his legs trail behind him lifelessly.

Mill, seeing that something went wrong, begins crawling over to the Jedi to help. He does not reach him in time. A sound like the splintering of a stone tree arcs down the back side of the statue. As top starts to wobble, the statue leans off kilter, hovering precariously over the fallen assassin laying hurt in the plaza. It hesitates in the air for a moment before collapsing with the full weight of the massive, five-meter tall stone slab.

The scene passes slowly for Mill in his weakened state. He watches as the Jedi-assassin, laying on his side with his leg bent painfully to the left, lifts his hand above his head to force aside the mass of stone intent on entombing him—to no avail. The center column of the statue envelops his body, swallowing the image of the helpless Jedi, before sending a whirl of dust and debris into the air, like the release of a macabre confetti cannon. Mill stays down on one knee, staring up at the scene in shock before dropping to two. A wave of nausea rolls him onto to his back. He stares into the night above; Stars cannot be seen in the Vakeyya sky, but blurry bright lights from the spying lamp posts convince him he is staring dizzily up at the stars. He begins to drift slowly into a comatose slumber, as if closing his eyes during a bad dream and losing sense of his surroundings, until a set of pebbly, black unforgiving eyes breaks him out of his stupor. "Mill! You killed him!"


	23. Chapter 23

Mill violently shakes his head to ward off the disorienting effects of his newfound force ability; Every strange force power he employs acts like a leech, draining him of his energy. After the bridge incident on Mygeeto, he entered a momentary state of torpor, like an intense lethargy depleting him of any will to act on. This time, along with the enervating effect of whatever strange force acted on the assassin, he felt muddled and detached, as if he had not just witnessed somebody die a few meters away from him. Even now, he is lost in his thoughts, completely unaware of Sbeit's frenzied pacing and hysteric gesticulations.

Mill stands up, walks with a pitiful slouch over to the largest block of stone amongst the scattered ruin— the same column now acting as a coffin lid to the dead Jedi below it— and sits back down with a thud, forcefully propping himself up against the debris at his back. He looks up to see the remains of the once beautiful courtyard: long shadows produced by scorching plasma conceal the intricate stone carvings, hollow craters dot the hillside behind where the central statue once stood, and the wreckage of said statue is strewn across the plaza, hiding the corpse of the man responsible. Mill sees Sbeit, acknowledges his fervent panic, then peers to the left of him at an orange figure standing at the outskirt of the arena. Menyoo is sporting a look of shock and fear while anxiously rubbing his knuckles and gravely staring at the site of the fallen statue a couple meters to Mill's right. Seeing Menyoo in distress invigorates Mill. He picks himself up from the rubble and makes his way over to the impressionable Jedi. Sbeit intercepts him during his walk, "are you not listening? We need to get him out of there, find out who he is, and report back to the council!"

Mill puts his hand up to Sbeit's chest to distance him. Struggling to force words around the lump in his throat, he calmly says, "Just a moment Sbeit. Let me speak with Menyoo first." Sbeit snorts angrily, then stomps away from Mill toward the pile of stone. Mill trundles to Menyoo, trying to read the expression on his face. Menyoo stares fixatedly at the same spot; he redirects his stare to Mill only after he gets within a meter of him, but the look of shock and horror remains. The sound of Sbeit hauling chunks of broken stone is the only disturbance in the otherwise silent courtyard. Mill lowers his head and tilts it to the left, then to the right, tracking the speed of Menyoo's eyes; they move pensively, burdened by the weight of distress. "I didn't mean to do… whatever I did. He just stopped moving, and then fell. I didn't want him to die. You saw. I spared him every chance I got. I uh…"

"Save it, it's okay." Menyoo says back in a docile tone. Mill suspects he means to comfort more than just him, "I'm just trying to figure out what happened, and what all this means. A Jedi coming after you. And so viciously. I mean you did what you had to, I understand." A few seconds pass before he adds to his statement, "But that power. I…" They stand directly ahead of one another, 30 centimeters away, avoiding eye contact by looking down at the shared ground between them. Mill waits for him to finish his statement, but the lengthy pause does it for him.

A particularly loud thud from Sbeit's excavation transitions them out of their moment of shared quiet. "We should help him," Mill utters faintly under his breath. Menyoo looks up and gives a light nod, prompting Mill to lead the short walk to Sbeit. Once they get within 3 meters of him, he whirls around and flounces the remaining distance to Mill. Menyoo, anticipating the incoming outburst— and fight that normally follows— circuitously veers off from behind Mill and hides among the pile of rock, disguising his presence by working diligently to uncover the Jedi's remains in Sbeit's stead.

Sbeit—as predicted—points his finger in Mill's face and begins admonishing him, "You are going to answer for this! You have to take responsibility for what happened here. If we do not make a report first, and they learn of his death and your part in it, you will be far worse off. We must make for Coruscant. You cannot keep hiding from the Council! I know you. You want to continue this silly scavenger hunt, but things just got very real very quickly."

Mill waves his hand in front of his face, fatigued by the battle and indisposed to more conflict, "Sbeit, please, enough. I know this is serious. I know you are serious. And you should know I am too. This study is important, and I think larger than you, me, or the Jedi that attacked us." He says pointing down at his buried remains, "He could not be Council sanctioned. Sending assassins is not our way, and I acted appropriately in self-defense. A report must wait, otherwise I will be sequestered on Coruscant and unable to finish my study."

Sbeit answers even angrier than before, despite Mill's temperate response, "You may have been acting in self-defense, but whatever you did to him, that dark trick stealing his force powers, _that_ is not council sanctioned. This whole trip should have never happened, and I am done sneaking around. I am going back to Coruscant with or without you."

Mill places his hand on Sbeit's shoulder, and to Mill's surprise, Sbeit does not reject it, "I know you are, but I cannot bring you. Menyoo and I have somewhere to be, so this is where we part ways. I know there is no changing your mind." He pauses to amplify his following statements, "Take care Sbeit. It truly was nice seeing you again." Mill then pats his neck before turning to Menyoo, "Menyoo!"

Menyoo, mid-lift, drops the heavy stone he was hauling and turns his head to Mill, still crouched in a lifting stance, "Yes?"

"Sbeit and I are going our separate ways. I unfairly volunteered you to continue the trip with me, but ultimately it is your choice. You understand the circumstances call for us to return to Coruscant, and you understand I cannot. So, what will it be? Will you follow me to Jaguada?"

Sbeit chips in before Menyoo can answer, "You should also know that since you are a new Jedi, that will likely lead to your dismissal. Keep that in mind. Up until now, you have only followed orders. That ends if you step on that ship with Mill."

Menyoo wipes his dirty hands into his robe. Facing Mill, and avoiding eye contact with Sbeit, Menyoo says, "Yoda said I have something to gain from this trip too. I know it would be better to return to the temple, but I have not finished my mission, and I want answers just as bad as you. I'm along for the ride."

Mill smiles, then turns and bows respectfully to Sbeit, "I wish you a safe trip."

Disappointed, Sbeit shakes his head, "As do I." Then turning his back to Mill, he walks past Menyoo without acknowledging him and picks up from where he left off removing the rubble. Menyoo looks down at the back of Sbeit's head, trying to decide whether he wants to say anything to him before leaving. He looks back to Mill for confidence, but he already began his walk back to the ship. Menyoo forgets his dilemma and chases after Mill. He reaches him as he rounds the corner to start up the hill. Menyoo turns back to face the arena one last time, remembering that he wanted to see the image depicted by the stone engravings. He is met with a regrettable sight; the destructive battle undid the artist's work, rendering it completely imperceivable. Disheartened, Menyoo turns back toward his companion and follows him back into the camouflage of the dark city.

Mill walks in silence; any excitement he had about being back on Socorro, he left in the plaza. Menyoo walks by his side, trying to think of reassuring things he could tell him. He goes back and forth on what he could say: should he mention Sbeit? Distract him? Or maybe the silence is good? At one point he feels flustered because he reasons that Mill should be the one trying to comfort him, not the other way around. His emotions settle and he mulls over Mills part in the silence, before concluding that he is being immature. Regardless, it becomes clear he needs to figure out how he feels before trying to console Mill. Consequently, they walk quietly side by side until shops begin appearing alongside the road. Mill tilts his head into the air and says out loud, "I think it will be light soon, we don't have much time. We also need some supplies before we leave so we'll have to be quick."

Menyoo looks into the sky and says back to Mill, "It doesn't look like it. The sky is pitch black. I know you said it changes fast here, but we must have enough time for a quick stop."

Mill chuckles to himself, the first playful thing he has done since his encounter with the rogue Jedi, "That isn't the sky you are looking at. Vakeyya is built into a massive rock hollowed on one side. The stone is warped around the top of the city far above our heads and curves out for many kilometers that way," he points to the west with his finger, "That isn't a sky above us, it's just more rock." He laughs out loud again, then picks on Menyoo, "You didn't think it was strange that there were no stars in the sky?"

Menyoo does not take well to being teased, "Well, no! We're in a city, it could be polluted or, you know, the lights."

Mill laughs again and nudges him with his elbow, "Sure, on Vakeyya the dimly lit lights outshine even the stars." Mill says while spreading his hands apart above his head, then laughs one last time, "Come on, this way." Menyoo growls softly to himself, then follows Mill into a nearby shop. When they walk in, the owner hurries to the counter and settles defensively behind it, watching the two of them like a neebray. His staring makes Menyoo uncomfortable as he walks, shoulders tensed, along a row of produce. He tries to watch the shopkeeper without making it obvious. This makes the shopkeeper more nervous, and this cycle continues until Mill brings their stuff to the counter. After paying for the goods, Mill leaves confidently, with the goods stowed in bags. Menyoo follows, maintaining a mistrusting glare until they are safe—kind of—outside.

"It isn't far from here, and the tunnels back to port are shorter than the ones entering the city." They make their way to the district exit, hidden by a set of palisades behind a butcher shop. Mill peels back the divider and they enter back into the musty tunnels. Mill tells Sbeit more about the structure of the city as they walk back. The smugglers port was made from a slim crack on the back side of the enormous boulder that contains the entire city.

A thick wall of the rock stands between the port and the city itself, hence the tunnel system leading in. The tunnels only connect to the commercial districts, which just so happen to be in the back end of the city against the section of rock that separates them from the smuggling port. The city slants at a downward angle from the innermost commercial areas, to the lowest point closest to the massive stone's open exterior. The lowest points are the residential districts, consisting of shantytowns held together by low wages and dilapidated building materials. In the center, between the commercial and residential districts, are the government buildings, industrial complexes, public service stations, and nicer homes contained in guarded communities for the well-off inhabitants.

According to Mill, the uphill climb to the commercial districts is so difficult on the residents, that every few years there is a movement to have a number of shops move into the lower districts. Since the smuggling business is so lucrative, the proposal is refused by both the businesses and the government. The result is a group journey to markets every couple of months resulting in mass mobilizations of people through the city streets. The merchants—in true commercial spirit— collectively raise prices before they arrive, and price gouge the poor. This day is infamous for leading to a multitude of fights, arsons, and murders. The trip has taken on an almost religious identity, leading to its apt appellation: the poor man's pilgrimage.

Mill recalls for Menyoo being a kid and seeing the selection process to determine who would make the trip, picking among the population those who would fight for better prices—in the literal meaning of fight. Mill remembers Darren was selected one year, but he ended up paying somebody else to go in his place; Mill leaves out the part involving Darren. Menyoo is amazed to hear about such a horrible tradition. He asks why the government never steps in to minimize the violence. Mill shrugs in response, then proceeds to tell him about how the politicians and law enforcement have their own tradition: to hide comfortably in their luxurious homes, prepare speeches, and wait for reports.

Mill starts to tell Menyoo about some of the public services, when they reach the tunnel exit, featuring a burly, armed human guard in front of it. Mill curses to himself. Menyoo asks him what is wrong, to which Mill replies, "The guard. He is going to collect a tax on the stuff we bought, but I wasn't planning ahead. We don't have money on us, just the credit chit. Okay, follow my lead, and keep a hand on your lightsaber just in case. We may be fighting our way out."

Mill walks with an insouciant swagger, looking around blissfully at the tunnel walls, then out at the port as he nears the exit. His self-assured strut almost takes him passed the guard, until he puts his beefy arm out to stop him, "A tax must be paid on all items entering the port."

Mill looks at the guard with a scrutinizing scowl, then answers with more feigned confidence, "You appear to be ill-informed. I am one of mayor hurkshaw's guys. I don't pay taxes, I collect them. So move along"

Mill takes a step forward without so much as looking the guard in the face, but the guard reasserts his command, this time placing his rifle across Mill's chest in place of his hand, "And you appear to be behind on the news. Mayor Hurkshaw was banished to the desert four years ago. Corruption and abuse of power. Something about profiting off of large-scale smuggling operations throughout the city. Hurkshaw got off lucky. His followers on the other hand, they didn't. Sure you don't want to change your story?"

Mill juggles with a few other excuses, trying to decide which one will get them in the least amount of trouble, when Menyoo walks up beside him, "Look, we are new here and didn't know the rules. We have a credit chit, but no physical money on us, and didn't know about the tax. Can something be arranged? Traded perhaps? Our ship is in the bay."

The guard waves his hand lazily as a nonchalant gesture, "No need, a credit chit is fine. We have readers on us now. Take it out." The guard pulls out a small square object from his pocket and holds it up for Mill, "Here, you just have to hold it up to the screen like so." The guard goes on to show them how the device works. "I'll add the standard tax, seeing as you only have food on you."

Mill pulls out the chit and waves it over the device. A small circle spins on the screen, then a checkmark appears to give them the okay to pass. Mill muses, "Wow, that is so convenient. Things really have changed since I've been here last." The guard moves to let them pass by.

The port is chaotic, as it always is before sunrise. Last minute bartering in front of half-packed, make-shift stalls devolve into screaming matches between rushing traders. Men desperate to avoid paying another full day's stay drag chests and racks of goods onto their ships. A small strip of red light forms on the awning suspended from the top of the departure bay. Clusters of port workers come out to prepare for the transfer of ships and goods— and other necessary tasks— to ensure a smooth transition from one business day to the next; some of the workers carry marshalling wands, others wield batons and riot shields.

Mill hurries through the crowds, shoving his way through the congested byways— a tactic employed by most of the competing smugglers. Menyoo tries to avoid being aggressive by staying close behind Mill, filling one void to the next. The spaces fill faster as the walkways become more congested, forcing him to be aggressive in order to keep pace. As they near the ship, Menyoo notes the neighboring vessel with the large dogs has already left. He looks over to his left to see if he can spot the creepy old man, but he appears to be gone too. Menyoo then wonders if he didn't tip off the Jedi hunting Mill, since he somehow knew they were Jedi himself. That whole exchange made Menyoo uncomfortable; chills return to him as he thinks about it again.

They reach the ship. Mill nearly trips into his knock on its side, "TC, it's Mill. You can open up. We've got to leave fast."

A faint, "Aye aye captain!" can be heard from the inside of the ship. A puff of smoke is released from the bottom of the doors as it swings open for the Jedi. Mill places one foot on the inside of the ship, but before he steps up, Menyoo stops him, "Hey Mill, hold up. I know it's too late now, but I've got to ask. Will Sbeit be okay? It feels wrong leaving him here like this."

Mill exhales from his nose and looks down, as if he were expecting the question. He then lifts his head impudently and says quickly, "No he'll be fine. He made his choice. And besides, he was the Order's man on the inside. They'll get a ship to him if he asks for one, or have somebody here supply him with one. The assassin had to have come in a ship too. We have nothing to worry about, he can take care of himself. I spent years making sure of it."

Menyoo nods, then steps passed Mill onto the ship, assisted by a guiding push by Mill. Mill picks himself up over the ledge and closes the door behind him, lowering the bunk into a normal position. The first thing Menyoo sees is the corner where Sbeit left a bag packed for the trip. He lets out a sigh, "You really think he was a spy for the council?"

Mill walks over and drops into his bunk, still exhausted from his near-fatal encounter. He answers, "I know he was. Not for the whole council, probably just those who sent us here. Yoda, Rancisis, your Uncle. He is a dear friend of mine, truly, but he's their lap dog. Loyal to them over his own master." He says the last statement with a sad intonation, then allows it time to settle before continuing, "Speaking of, I never did thank you for not telling the council about Mygeeto. The vortex over the bridge I mean." Menyoo gives a half-hearted smile, having never considered it an option to tell them in the first place. It wasn't his business; it was Mill's story to tell. He just hopes he won't come to regret allowing him such freedom, or following along for the remainder of the trip. Mill sits up and slaps the bunk with his hand, "Anyway, with him gone we are free of prying eyes. That being said, I think it's about time we shared some things. Especially seeing that we may have become outlaws together."


	24. Chapter 24

Mill knocks on the hatch above his head, which TC-26 opens gingerly with two of his weedy legs. He tells the pilot droid that they are in a hurry to leave, and to be cautious during the departure—with all of the ships rushing to leave in time and avoid the hefty late departure fine, the chance of colliding with another ship is dangerously high. TC crawls back into the ceiling, but stops short of submerging himself into his peculiar cockpit, "But sir, where are we going?"

Mill extends an uncertain "uhh…" wary to tell him right away about the perilous route they will be taking. He instead decides to make an interim stop: to postpone having to explain the mission to TC, and give him and Menyoo an opportunity to speak alone. "There is a refueling station on this planet, south of here a ways. Let's top off first before leaving the system. We'll have to consult some star charts before we can leave anyway."

The sound of TC's spindly legs prodding and locking into place can be heard before the droid responds with an enthusiastic, "Sounds good to me!" The ship slowly creeps into the air; a series of propulsions and abrupt stops rock the ship for several minutes until they are able to safely fly clear of the docking space and its complement of truculent ships.

Mill does not bother strapping in for the departure, instead using the time to organize their supplies and put away the items from his bag. As he pulls out various things—the Sith book, manuscript, some water— he reaches the communicator he put away shortly before his fight with the assassin and finds a message has been left on it. Mill considers playing it later when Menyoo is asleep, but decides against it. At this stage of the mission there should be no secrets between him and Menyoo. Menyoo has taken a great risk continuing the journey with him; He has earned complete transparency. Menyoo sits in his bunk with his legs hanging off the side, staring ahead at nothing in particular. Mill turns to him and says, "I've got a transmission, it may be from the council."

Menyoo's eye stalks perk up in interest, "Well then play it, let's hear what they have to say." Mill obliges with a press of his thumb. Sbeit's voice picks up after a fit of static:

"Mill, I've learned a few things since we went our separate ways that I thought you should know. I found a commercial port pass on the Jedi, and I used it to find his docking number. I'm on his ship now and I've found some… concerning things. For one, it will get me to Coruscant, so rest easy. Not to presume it was bothering you, but, if it were, I'll be okay. But that's not why I'm leaving this. I have here a written order to the Jedi who attacked you. Orders to stay hidden, avoid civilian casualties, conceal his identity, normal stuff. It also has a frequency listed for him to use so he can trace your location. It's actually your ship's location. Furthermore, it was a kill order. He had no intention in bringing you back alive. Menyoo and I are not mentioned anywhere, it was all about you. Then the most interesting part, it was signed by F. Rashad. I don't have to tell you what that means. That's all I have to report, but I did want to say a few things. I know we didn't part in friendly terms. When do we ever? But you have enough enemies as it is, and I don't want you to count me among them. I am going to fight for your innocence, and I am going to do everything I can to expose who is responsible. You have friends on Coruscant, and if you decide to give up your silly scavenger hunt, I'm sure they'll be understanding. Don't worry, I won't implicate the people who helped you along the way, but that does leave you and Menyoo to be deserters. And the last thing, ditch the lightsaber. If you are caught, and they find the Jedi's lightsaber on you, that is going to make you look like Jedi hunters, and the situation will be much worse than it already is. Okay, this is where I will leave off. I don't want to say good luck, but do stay safe. And that goes for Menyoo too. Let him know I said it was nice meeting him and… Yeah, tell him that. Until we meet again Master."

Mill holds the communicator still in his hand and continues to stare at it after the message finishes playing. Menyoo begins to say something before Mill cuts him off after the first syllable, "Did you take his lightsaber?"

Menyoo's eyes shift toward the corner of the ship and he lets out an anxious, "uh…" Mill turns to him promptly to deliver a scornful glare, which he holds until one of Menyoo's eyes looks up from the ground to Mill. His eye darts back to the empty corner and he says, "Yes, I'm sorry. I just thought it would be a waste to leave it. And dangerous! What would happen if a local picked it up?"

Mill sighs and says in a sympathetic tone, "It's okay, but you should know Sbeit was going to do something with it. Give him a proper send-off as a Jedi. Taking the lightsaber back to the temple is part of that process. For the archives and his funeral."

Menyoo responds vindictively, "But he tried to kill you! He doesn't deserve the proper ceremony! He was an assassin. Just because he trained to fight like a Jedi does not make him a Jedi. We don't have assassins."

Mill nods his head lightly, "You're right, we don't. It isn't our way. But I think we haven't followed our way for a long time. Like I said, it's alright, but Sbeit is right. Leave it in the cabinet. I'll dispose of it when we stop on Jaguada."

Menyoo huffs back and says in a sarcastically childish tone, "Yes Master." Mill chuckles to amuse Menyoo, but it is obviously fake. Mill stares blankly at the wall beside Menyoo, prompting Menyoo to ask him if there is something wrong. Mill nods again, slowly, distracted by his thoughts, "I'm just putting the pieces together. It makes a lot more sense now that I know who sent him. Unfortunately, I don't think Sbeit will be able to help us on this one. We can expect more trouble, I'm sure of it."

Menyoo responds with an inflection of curiosity in his voice, "Right, F. Rashad. So you know him? I have never heard of him."

Mill drops his bag and walks over to the supplies. He starts putting them away in the cabinets as he answers, "F. Rashad is just a guy, a name. I don't know him either. But I know who he works for, he didn't give the order. Vux Shike gave the order, Rashad just signed the papers. He is a stage guy, nothing else." Mill turns to face Menyoo before finishing his answer, "the fact that I know things like this is partially why Vux hates me. Partially."

Menyoo sits and thinks about what he was just told. After half a minute he answers with agitation in his voice, "So somebody on the council tried to kill you? That cannot go unpunished! We have to do something. Or Sbeit, he'll be able to show the council the messages and, and report what happened."

Mill answers quick with contemptuous venom, starkly contrasted by his calm stocking of the cabinets, "He's a snake. Knowing Vux, Sbeit won't be able to prove anything. The man is very good at covering tracks." Mill empties the last bag on the table, then closes the door tight to prevent things from falling out during the inevitable rough landing to come.

Menyoo continues to stare at the ground, but this time out of anger, not shame. His eyes dart back and forth as he thinks of ways to prove Vux's treachery to the council. Mill looks back at him and sees the distress in his neurotic eye movements and twitchy rubbing of his hands. Mill attempts to comfort him: "Don't worry, he can't send anything our way that we can't handle. He sent his best assassin, I guarantee it, and he couldn't beat me. Who could he possibly send to beat the both of us together?"

Menyoo smiled at the thought of fighting a duel side by side with Mill. Watching Mill elegantly counter the Jedi's erratic movements made Menyoo envious of his skill and finesse. Menyoo didn't have enough confidence when he first learned to fight with the lightsaber, so he stuck to the basics, learning a blend of form one and two—poor preparation for an opponent like Mill's. Mill managed to turn the wild unpredictability of his enemy against him, and did so while never giving in to killing him. Technically, he did kill him, but it was an accident. Menyoo thinks about the way he drained the force from him; an image of utter helplessness sprawled across the assassin's face—of absolute despair staining his last moments—is burned into Menyoo's mind; Its recollection causes bad memories to emerge from Menyoo's past. Menyoo tries to stop thinking about them, but they hang suspended at the end of every dismissive thought he musters. Unable to calm his tireless thoughts, he blurts out, "Mill, we need to talk!"

Mill was walking back from the corner after having put the Sith book back into its respective box. He looks at Menyoo and says with an expectant tone, as if he were waiting for Menyoo to broach the subject, "This is about what happened to the assassin on the statue? Before he fell?"

Menyoo nods nervously, but Mill follows his question with a soft smile and says, "I already planned on talking about it. We just have to wait until we land. We should be there shortly."

And shortly it was. Within minutes TC yells from the cockpit, "We're at the station! And there are some men waiting for us. Get ready!"

Mill stands up and walks to the hatch, waiting for TC to open the little metal door and pop his head out. When he does, Mill says to the droid, "I'm going to let you take care of this. Here is the credit chit. Menyoo and I need to finalize preparations for the trip before we take off. I'm trusting you with the refueling. Don't worry, they are nice to droids here. And if they give you any issues, you know where to find me." Mill then holds the chit up into the air for TC to grab with one of his spare legs.

"Oh wow, I won't let you down boss! Thanks! I'll even see if I can get them down in price! You'll see, I'll be the best negotiator Socorro has ever seen!" TC pushes a button in his cockpit with one of his other free legs, then drops to the floor of the ship and rushes out of a crack in the door immediately after it begins opening.

Mill tries to stem TC's enthusiasm by shouting to him, rushing the last half of his sentence as TC sprints out of the ship, "Don't try to talk them down their still bandits!" His words go unheard by the little droid dashing eagerly toward the station. The door continues to open, spilling out the contents of the bunk all over the floor of the ship. Mill keeps his hand in the air from when he was shouting while staring disappointedly at the mess in front of him. He then lets out a tired sigh and turns to Menyoo, "Well I guess we can have that conversation now."

Menyoo starts by asking him why he wanted to wait for TC to leave. Mill explains that the Jedi may be listening in on them by using the droid's mic. Menyoo voices concern over Mill's priorities, "But didn't Sbeit say they were tracking the ship? So, we already know it's bugged. Shouldn't that be our main concern?"

Mill shakes his head, "Nah, the ship was bugged before we got to Socorro. By the time we left, the port security would have scrubbed anything capable of recording audio from the ship. Droids are exempt from that, but anything else on the ship isn't. We should be fine so long as TC isn't too close."

"Oh." Menyoo says back. He doesn't say anything after, so Mill gets up and takes a seat next to him. Menyoo remains quiet, but a multitude of questions come to mind. He picks out his first, but isn't sure how to begin. He looks up at Mill for direction. Mill lifts his eyes brows, then places his hands out in response, hinting at Menyoo to initiate. "Okay, I suppose I want to know first what happened during the fight. Was it a dark force power that you used? Did you know that was going to happen?"

Mill thinks about how to best answer his question; a difficult task since Mill does not quite know the answer himself. He tells him about the moment when time stopped passing and he saw the three options play out in his head. He mentioned the fact that each scenario showed him no more than a couple of seconds, and that he had no idea it would drain his opponent of his force powers, or lead to his death, but instead it simply looked the least violent option of the three. Menyoo follows his question with another, "Do you think the dark side tricked you?"

"I don't think so. I have no doubt it was a dark force power, it didn't feel like a Jedi power. But that doesn't mean it was malevolent either. One thing I have learned so far is that the dark side as we know it is not evil. At least, it doesn't start that way." Mill goes on to explain how the books he read describe the use of emotions as a tool. He juxtaposes it to the Jedi's insistence on removing all emotion in order to act entirely on reason alone. He describes the use of the dark force powers as emotionally draining, with a physically draining effect that follows. He then shares his hypothesis that the only reason the power is difficult to control is because he is not sure how to control his own emotions, which is entirely the fault of his Jedi training.

"Hmm…" Menyoo answers, thinking about what that could mean for him. Mill says back "Yes, hmm…" imitating Menyoo's mannerisms.

Menyoo thrusts his elbow into Mill, "I'm just thinking jerk."

Mill laughs but quiets down quickly, joining Menyoo in thought. Mill then says, "Okay, it is my turn for a question." Menyoo turns to him, then mimics with this hands Mill's earlier gesture to get Menyoo to start talking (unfortunately, Menyoo cannot replicate Mill's eyebrow lift on account of not having eyebrows.) Mill asks Menyoo, "So why is it you need to rekindle with the force? Like Yoda said, and I have seen. You are nearly cut off. You carry it with you in battle, but even then it's limited. How long has this been going on?"

Menyoo says back in a dismal tone, "Alright, I'll share, but I hope we have time for a story."


	25. Chapter 25

Menyoo thinks about where he should begin the story, when it crosses his mind that he has never told it before. Since he joined the order at a young age, he became accustomed to not sharing his personal thoughts with others. He had his Uncle, but he just spit the Jedi teachings back at him each time he sought advice, so it was not worth going to him about personal matters. He did not have friends in the order, just acquaintances. Even if he had met somebody who he got along with, he still could not share his feelings with them; He is not supposed to have them in the first place. According to Jedi teachings, any semblance of feeling must be rooted out and destroyed before it grows into something vile and deceptive. _Mill really is different_, Menyoo thinks to himself. He looks up at the man sitting beside him, then realizes he is patiently waiting for Menyoo to begin his story. Menyoo clears his throat, then begins:

"When I became a full Jedi, I was behind most of my class. So many of them knew what they wanted to do and were already receiving their first assignments. I had not chosen a path and didn't have the faintest idea of what I wanted. My master recommended I take a month to myself, make a vow of silence, and try to connect with my inner me. Or so he called it. He claims it worked for him when he was my age, so I did it for a week. Well, I kept to myself anyway. Staying silent didn't last long. I decided instead that I would take a trip back home, to Skustell, my people's homeworld. My master had an old beater ship he wouldn't miss, so I took that. When I got home, I found my mother first, then my brother Dryell, both of them I hadn't seen since I was 4. I spent a few days with them telling them about my adventures, and they caught me up on what changed since I had left. Things were very different than I remembered, but Dryell, he was the same as he was before I left.

Being around him reminded me of when we were kids. We agreed as kids that when we got older, we would look for the golden falls. There is a legend on Skustell about them and how they supposedly hide great treasure, and a lot of Ongree believe the stories. Dryell and I took off in search of the treasured falls, and went to the Skhost bluffs to begin. It was a dangerous climb, but many locals believed the golden falls were at the top, so we started there. Since most Ongree are accustomed to living in the ocean, they can't be on land for long, much less scale a mountain, so it made sense that it had never been discovered before if the falls were up there. Since I had just come back from the academy, I was excited to show off my new powers.

About halfway up it became too dangerous to continue. Bad wind caused the oceans to batter and spray the cliffs, making them dangerously slick. Dryell wanted to turn around, but I insisted we go farther. What would I have to be afraid of? I was a jedi. If anything went wrong, I would save him. Things did go wrong. It wasn't his fault either, he was only a couple meters from the edge when the rocks gave out from under him.

I was already over the top waiting for him. Without any hesitation, he let go of the cliffside completely and reached his hand out for me to catch him. He was too far, so I reached out with the force instead, but I felt nothing. I first tried to steady the rocks that were falling, hoping I could freeze one in the air to catch him, then lift him up over the edge. When that failed, I reached out for his body instead, and same as the rock, I felt nothing. He just watched as I held my hand out in front of me like a kid playing Jedi. That was the last thing he saw as he fell to his death."

Menyoo, having balled his hand into a fist during his description of Dryell's fall, slams it into the side of the bunk. The thick stalks of his eyes go slack, bearing the weight of heavy memories rushing back to him. He continues on, quieter than before, "I was going to turn around after that last ledge. We were so close. He wanted to turn around so many times, but I just kept pressuring him. I still don't know what happened… I…"

Mill fills in the void between Menyoo's stammering, "I'm so sorry to hear that Menyoo. I'm surprised your uncle never told me. He must have sensed it, and if I knew that…"

Menyoo stops Mill before he can finish his statement, "He doesn't know. Dryell wasn't my actual brother. We were raised together as brothers, but my Uncle never visited, so he never met him or knew of him. On Skustell, best friends for life raise their families together, live in the same households, and call each other brother and sister. Often, the kids go on to form similar relationships. As a Jedi, I will never have a family, but that is what we were supposed to be, Dryell and I. Our entire lives, I have just abandoned him. First for the academy, then when he needed me most. And as for why I still have problems connecting with the force, I don't know why. I used to think it was because I defied the order. Since meeting you, I'm not sure what I believe anymore."

Mill interjects with a thoughtful "hmm," before telling Menyoo, "I used to think something similar. When I was a kid, before I was picked up by the order, I was given a locket by my dad. Well, sort of my dad. It's hard to explain. It's kinda like your relationship with your brother. He was my everything. The locket," Mill lightly chuckles, "it was somebody else's family. It had an older man and a young girl in the picture. But on Socorro, you appreciate what you can get. My old man, his name was Darren, he gave me the locket as a keepsake.

I knew what it symbolized, and he did his best, so it was important to me. When he died, I took it with me. During my first month of training it was found during a random search of my quarters. I was ordered to destroy it. It along with the memory of my dad. Attachment is bad, makes us weak and susceptible, yada yada you know their reasons. Suffice to say, I didn't destroy it.

But this is what the order does. They convince us that their way is the only way, then instill enough fear in us to ensure we never deviate from their ways. And if we do, we convince ourselves that terrible things will happen." Mill pauses before finishing his statement, "We'll figure out what happened Menyoo, I know it."

Mill places his hand on Menyoo's shoulder and shakes it lightly, prompting Menyoo to lift his eyes up toward Mill. A palpable sorrow rests atop his heavy eyelids, straining his gaze and forcing his eyes down to resume facing the ground. Mill takes his hand off Menyoo's shoulder and says in an acerbic manner, "You having lost access to your force powers the way you did, is that why you were so freaked out after my duel? Because that's what happened to him?" Menyoo continues to stare down, but nods to affirm Mill's calculation. Mill continues speaking, "what happened to him is not the same as what happened to you. I am wielding force powers that I do not yet know how to control. The Jedi who was killed, he was a consequence of my inept abilities. For any number of reasons, you lost your connection to the force like he did momentarily, but I don't think the dark side had a hand in it."

Menyoo responds with more fervor than before, "But what if it did!? This happened no so long ago. And, not so long ago I killed a defenseless man out of anger! That surely must have been the dark side. You were there, we communed with a Sith idol immediately after. Whatever has been affecting you, I am infected too."

"You are not _infected_, that is not how it works. When you meditated at the idol, you rewatched the death of your friend didn't you?" Menyoo does not respond, but his prolonged silence is confirmation enough for Mill to continue, "what you are dealing with are feelings. You can't handle these intense emotions and you are seeing the consequences of it, just as I am. I don't know what happened in that moment when you were with your friend, sorry, your brother. But I think in order to reconnect, you have to work through those feelings. This dark force power inside me, I thought it was something different too. Some evil entity or energy intent on destruction and chaos. But I'm starting to see that the bad energy inside me, it's my own stuff. It's chaotic only because it has been left unsorted."

Menyoo faces Mill and sighs, "So the Jedi are right. Our feelings have caused all our problems. But how do I stomp them out? Time? More meditation? Have you found anything that works?"

Mill responds sternly, "No, the Jedi are not right. If I am correct, this is their fault. We don't need to learn how to remove our feelings, we need to learn to control them. I was everything the council could want in my heyday. Free of love, attachment, pain, empathy. I was a tool, suppressing a dangerous concoction of trauma and negligence, and just waiting to explode. The nexus on Moltok brought it all to surface, but it was always there. If they had taught me to embrace these feelings, to control them and live with them, more people would be alive. The troops on Mygeeto, the Jedi on Socorro, the… I would be better off too." Mill was about to mention the banished Makurth on Moltok, but then remembered he had not told Menyoo about that incident. He instead takes a note out of Menyoo's playbook and looks down at the ground, waiting for Menyoo to fill in the silence like Mill often does for him.

"So when I killed that guy in the temple, you don't think it was the dark side at all?

Mill answers, satisfied with the topic having returned to Menyoo, "Yes, I don't think the dark side made you angry. I think you were just angry. As I said, if you were taught to control that anger, he would probably still be alive. Since leaving Coruscant, I have learned the primary difference between the dark side and light side tactics. Those on the light side of the force remain rational and calculated when fighting or making decisions; while those belonging to the dark side use feelings to their advantage, amplifying them to increase their power, and leading to an obsessive need for more suffering and pain. These feelings are a fuel for strong force abilities and raw power. The Jedi disregard them because of their unpredictability. The common factor between the two is that those on both sides feel, it's what we do with those feelings that determines our actions."

"Wow," Menyoo says, "you really have learned a lot on this trip. It makes sense, but that would mean that the Jedi have been handling this all wrong since the very beginning."

"That is what I'm afraid of." Mill muses. "And that is what we have journeyed to figure out. And from this point on, we are partners. And if you care to join me, I have a lot of material to study now that Sbeit is off the ship." Mill tells Menyoo about the books from the library on Xagobah. He shows him the strange writing in the Sith tomes, but like Sbeit and Mill, he does not recognize the alien sequences of lines and dots. Mill then shows him the dark passage from the first volume of D.G.'s set, and Menyoo similarly recoils at the crude exposition of the Dark-force user's methods. Mill and Menyoo make a plan to read through the other three volumes before reaching Jaguada: a far enough trip to afford them the time.

TC-26 comes bobbing up to the side of the ship and opens the door. As he climbs in with his tangle of grappling legs, TC exclaims to Mill, "All filled up Captain! Where are we off to now!?" TC pushes off his last two legs from the refueling dock, heaving himself through the open passage. He then stabs his way forward into the the small kitchenette area and leaps onto a chair.

Mill and Menyoo stand up from the bunk and walk over to join him at the table. Mill sits across from TC and says to him, "We have a task ahead that is going to call on every bit of skill and talent you possess as a pilot. We"—Mill looks at Menyoo for unity—"know you can do it." The droid cannot make facial expressions, but it appears to Mill that the droid's excitement overcharged the lights in his eyes, causing them to flash a bit brighter than usual. "It will be dangerous droid. The next planet is Jaguada, tucked away in dangerous part of space.

TC's eyes dim again. The droid remains silent, processing the planet's name as he renders it through a database. After a short pause, the light returns to his eyes, then immediately dims again, "Jaguada is marked as a distant mythological planet belonging to the lost sectors north of the Thanium sector."

Mill looks at Menyoo, then back to TC, "Yeah… it isn't a myth. There are old hyperspace lanes running through that area. According to Plank's description it is due west of Almania. Like I told you, it's a dangerous mission, but if anybody can do it, it's you."

TC-26 hops down from the seat and scurries to the spot underneath the cockpit. He says with courage, "Well then it will be a long trip. We had best get started!" TC leaps vertically, pushing off each leg collectively, straight through the open hatch. He extends his legs to stop his momentum, digging into the paneling inside. He then inserts his legs into the proper interfaces to begin the next stage of their journey. Mill gets up out of the seat and grabs the credit chit that TC left for him after refueling. _Probably won't be good for much longer once Sbeit makes his report, _Mill thinks to himself. He starts walking towards his bunk now that plans have been settled, but Menyoo asks him one last question before he can get comfortable.

"Hey Mill, do you still have that locket your father gave you?"

Mill remains turned away from Menyoo and lets out an inquisitive, "Hmpf," before answering, "Today was the first time I have thought of it in a while. Honestly, I'm not sure."


	26. Chapter 26

The ship lurches into space after the Jedi settle into their bunks—strapped in and ready for departure. Immediately after passing through the planet's exosphere, TC makes a hyper jump to the nearest hyperspace lane where they will begin their voyage to the upper quadrants of the galaxy. Menyoo bustles with excitement since Mill declared them to be partners. Eager to help Mill with his studies, he asks him, "So do you want to start immediately with the second volume? Or do you want to recap the first volume first?"

Mill had snuggled into his bunk and was relieving his tired back, having grown tight from the intense battle, when he answers, "Uh… I was thinking we begin with a nap. Or just sleep. I'm gonna sleep." Menyoo puckers his mouth to show disappointment (a strange sight to see for a creature without lips.) Mill's eyes crawl to a close as he tries to think of something to say that would keep Menyoo excited about the study, and still buy himself a couple hours of sleep. Unable to think of anything clever, he arrives at a straightforward response, "Menyoo, I'm just as keen as you are, but we have _at least_ a week before we'll arrive on Jaguada. I promise, we'll get right into after a bit of shut eye."

Menyoo nods and feigns a smile, then says, "sleep well Master." Mill smiles back before rolling over to his side and resting his head on a blanket bunched up over his arm. Menyoo pulls at his neck tendrils—an adolescent habit that reappears when he is bored and unsure of what he should do. He takes after Mill and lays back into his bunk. He realizes he will have it all to himself now that Sbeit is gone, then proceeds to claim his dominion by stretching his arms and legs out to each corner of the bed. Laying still in the placid ship, lulled into day dreams by the soft hum of the engines, he thinks about what they may find on Jaguada. Possibilities flood his thoughts: Artifacts; an undiscovered species of alien, followers of D.G.; another message perhaps. The original message left for them was so prophetic and fanciful, could this be the beginning of some great adventure? Like the old wars and great victories Menyoo read about during his Jedi history lessons. But at second thought, maybe he should not get his hopes up too high; technically, the message was not left for them in particular. Or maybe it was? A pariah destined to stop a change of fortune: Mill would fit that description if his fears for the order are justified.

Menyoo's thoughts arrive through tangents. In this case, the topic of the order comes to mind. For a boy who was not allowed to have dreams, he always wanted to become a great Jedi knight—the only desire the order would allow him to have. Now he may become outcasted after less than three months into becoming one. He does believe in the cause, or at least in Mill; they are one in the same. But is it worth losing everything for? Does it have to be him? He gave up his entire childhood to become a Jedi, and lost his best friend because he thought he was unstoppable. Hasn't Menyoo sacrificed enough? Still, Mill has been convincing, and so have the things Menyoo has seen since exploring the galaxy beside him. And then Sbeit, how he could have been under Mill's tutelage and ended up such a tool for the order is beyond Menyoo.

All those people died on Mygeeto and the order does nothing to save face. That is exactly how Sbeit would have responded if it were his call. What does the order stand for? It is clearly not what he was taught; otherwise, the killers, banking clan, everybody responsible would have been captured and held responsible for their crimes. Menyoo too is unsure what it is he stands for, but he is certain what he and Mill are doing is innocent. They are seeking knowledge and truth against all odds—and obstacles. Something clicks in Menyoo's head: he thinks he finally understands Mill now, and why he is the way he is. He must have dealt with shady council business for so long that he lost faith and began seeking something he could trust. Menyoo remembers a conversation with his Uncle during which he said that Mill could have been a high council member at one time, but passed up the chance. It all makes sense. Mill told Menyoo that they are alike; in fact, his Uncle said the same thing. Maybe that is not such a bad thing after all.

Menyoo slumps further into the bed, digging his shoulders into the cushion beneath him until he finds a comfortable spot to settle. He feels more confident about the journey ahead, and his role within it. He thinks more about what awaits them on Jaguada. He resolves to take Sbeit's advice and learn about the planet before arriving; He may find something useful pertaining to their survival, like Sbeit did before Xagobah. Sbeit may be kind of a jerk, and he embodies the worst characteristics of the order, but he did save them on Xagobah_. _If he had not been there, Mill and Menyoo would not have made it any farther than 10 meters from the ship before collapsing from the poisonous spores. His thoughts shift back toward the future. What is the possibility they find some rare treasure in the unmarked tomb? He closes his eyes and imagines little baubles and trinkets that they could find. As his eyes remain closed, his thoughts fade, and black takes precedence over the conjured images as Menyoo drifts into a deep sleep.

He awakens sometime later, with a startled jump and search of the room, as if he woke up in a new place. Mill sits at the small table combing through the box of books with one hand, and rapidly flipping through the pages of a hefty manual with the other. Without looking up at him, Mill says in a matter of fact tone, "You are up."

Menyoo blinks slowly to adjust to being awake after unexpectedly falling asleep. "I am, yes." He says as he rubs the tiredness out of his eyes, "You seem busy over there, did you find something important?"

Mill slams the book shut and releases it from his grasp, causing it to hit the table with a loud thud. "No, that is the problem. There is nothing to find." Mill stands up suddenly, causing the chair to scoot some centimeters back, and he walks to the small cupboard. He opens the door and pulls out a small bag of candy be bought from the store on Vakeyya. He sits back into his chair, falling into it with equitable force to that of the heavy tome against the table. He begins peeling apart some long, blue rope-like substance. He tears away a small piece of the candy from the main stalk, then looks over at Menyoo.

He softens his eyes when he sees the expression on Menyoo's face: one of genuine concern and interest. "Sorry, I was still waiting for you, I just wanted to meander through the books quick to see what was worth skipping, if anything. Like I had told you before, the first volume was a dud for most of it." He continues to stare at Menyoo to see if his explanation sufficed. unable to gauge Menyoo's response, he extends the candy rope out toward him to share.

Menyoo walks over and sits in the chair opposite of Mill. "Well, what was wrong? Are the others written in that strange writing too?"

Mill huffs to express his frustration, then answers, "No, it's written in basic. The problem is it's useless. Just try reading some of it."

Mill turns the smallest of the four books toward Menyoo. The issue is immediately apparent; Menyoo flips it open to a random page and attempts to read through jumbled layers of scribbles. The writing is diagonal, and many of the letters overlap with those above or below. The utensil used was pressed into the material with significant pressure, imbedding deep ridges into the backs of the previous pages, and scarring each successive page. Menyoo begins reading aloud from the top:

"So how could it be? Be that the craven immaterial rises from not one but many. The loss of appetite, the wetting of the palate. Hold meat for the hungry vagrants and watch as brother kills brother, as straw burns and the weak yelp. But judge those that materialize the meat? No, we do judge, that is why we are here. Maybe we need not meat longer? Or the meat does not need us? No, that cannot be. Unprocessed, it needs nothing, except was it does."

Menyoo says 'Okay…" holding the last syllable to voice his confusion. He skips down to the bottom of the page and reads another section just as messy as the first:

"Visions serve to supercede the present, but how can we have a present, if it is now blotted out by eyes too far forward leaning? A curse and a blessing are matters of perspective. I have both, because I wanted both, but it is not both I have. I have one and two perspectives. There is no both, just one state and four eyes."

Menyoo closes the book, quieter than Mill closed his, "the whole thing is like this?"

"Mhm," Mill responds, murmuring through a closed mouth. He picks up another book from the side and places it in the middle of the table. "The third isn't as bad, but it still doesn't make much sense. It's more neatly written, and intelligible, but the ideas are all over the place. We have the second volume still, it checks out, but I don't know if we should trust it."

Menyoo puts his finger into the air, then gets up out of his chair and makes his way over to Mill's side of the ship. He grabs Mill's bag and opens it from the top before digging into its contents. "Umm, can I help you find something?" Mill asks as he watches to see what Menyoo pulls out.

"Nope, I've got it right here," Menyoo pulls out the manuscript that was left for them; the one that sent them to Jaguada. Menyoo reads a line aloud from the poem, "The Madman, the cynic, the traitor." Mill stares at Menyoo, nodding lightly, but clearly not on the same page. Menyoo continues, "Don't you see? The madman _is_ D.G. The tomb we are going to visit, that is D.G's tomb. He wrote these! He must have gone crazy while he was writing these books. We can see his madness progress through his writing. But more importantly, this also means that the tomb we are visiting belongs to somebody who—"

—"studied both the light and dark side of the force." Mill completes his sentence.

"Exactly." Menyoo says, then he hurries back over and sits down across from Mill, "Surely this means we are on the right path. This was left for you Mill. Or somebody like you. And we'll know what to do when we get there, we must."

"Left for _us_." Mill says back. "He left it for us. Remember, we are in this together."

Menyoo smiles; but not for Mill, he just could not help but smile. If Menyoo were still worried about finding where he belongs, he knew in that moment that he was exactly where he needed to be. Maybe that is what D.G. was trying to say through his frantic scrawling: don't look too far forward, or you lose the present. Menyoo pulls the second volume toward his chest and carefully turns over the cover. "Like you said, we have a week. We might as well see if we can get something out of this one at least. Maybe it'll help to have an insight into how D.G. thinks."

The two Jedi work diligently through the second volume of D.G.'s writing, taking extra time to consider his beliefs and conclusions, and further contextualize them in a more modern setting. Many of his ideas align with Mill's own beliefs about the current state of affairs: a need for a balancing of the force and a junction of both dark and light ideology. After three days of on and off reading and reflection, the Jedi come across a few concerning passages. The first refers to the opposed organizational interpretations of the force—i.e., the Jedi and Sith:

_The degrees of separation between the two relevant bodies discussed herein have grown considerably over time; a result of misdirected language and morally self-righteous pedants. The Jedi insist on a bilateral interpretation of the force; a way of thinking that crept slowly into Sith ideology from roots planted long ago. This interpretation is wrong, as it would have to be if it remains possible for one individual to imbue themselves with both sides of any diametric opposition. The Jedi refer to a light side, suggesting its opposition is that of the dark. This too has been adopted into the lexicon of the Sith leadership and their acolytes. It is irrational to consider those who choose to hide in the dark, and those who bathe in the light, to not be one in the same by such standards alone; but what remains in the light is privy to judgement and ridicule, so the Sith have taken it upon themselves to conform to their newfound identity and remain in the dark. This is how the Sith have adapted to their new position among the force-sensitive community. They, and therefore I, have moved to the shadows, and watch from afar as the Jedi relish in the public sphere. We too command such positions, and we too have thrived— Just in the dark, where the Jedi have placed us, then misplaced us with time…_

Having read from a dark-force user that the Sith at one time were alive and active, but chose to operate from the shadows, Mill and Menyoo call it quits for the day. If that were true, then the Sith may not have been eliminated a thousand years ago as the Jedi teach. Neither speak directly about it, but it remains on both of their minds. The following day they read a second passage just as troubling as the first, making the Sith the topic of interest for the remainder of the trip. The second passage, referring to the socio-political landscape that D.G. was living among during his time of writing, says this:

_The Jedi, upholding their superiority among the galactic elite, are stretched too thin to police the entire galaxy. The republic maintains their own field armies and equipment, with whom the Jedi refuse to intermingle. This was a gross miscalculation on their part. It became apparent they would be too vulnerable to defend against a full-scale attack, and the cultivation and mobilization of an occupying force was imminent. It was not until the Jedi accepted assistance from the Antarian rangers that our plans were put on hold._

Mill and Menyoo become gravely quiet after Mill reads the last sentence aloud. After pushing the book away, Mill begins anxiously twiddling with his thumbs. Menyoo rubs his knuckles— a trait that manifests when he becomes nervous. Mill is unable to contain his own nervous energy and begins pacing the length of the ship, looking down and concentrating as he steps from end to end with long, purposeful strides. Menyoo speaks first, "Okay, I'll say it. The Antarian rangers were formed what about 600 years ago?"

Mill corrects him while maintaining his neurotic pacing, "500 to 600 yeah."

Menyoo says, "yeah… which is weird because he said the Sith were going to attack just before that."

"He did," Mill says on the return trip of his 8'th lap.

"The Sith were wiped out 1000 years ago. That is impossible. If D.G. was writing this 50o years ago, and he was a Sith like he claims, then…"

"They were never destroyed."

The rest of the book is not worth mentioning, but the revelation is significant enough on its own. The two of them avoid the subject directly, instead discussing on and off how the information relates to their mission and D.G. They continue on to Jaguada, saving many of their questions with high hopes that they will be answered by what—if anything— awaits them in the tomb. Menyoo tries to learn about Jaguada from the Net's geocyclopedia, but Jaguada's entry is scarce, describing it as a barren planet supporting little to no life. Some sites even list it as a myth. Mill pulls out _From The Light Births the Dark, _but that too is written in the foreign, enigmatic language unfamiliar to each of the Jedi. Having finished volume two, and having no other resources to study from, Mill and Menyoo take turns skimming the third and fourth volume for any useful information. Unfortunately, the degeneration of D.G.'s sanity makes his ideas far too incomprehensible.

The latter half of the week consists of Mill and Menyoo returning to some of their old habits to pass the time. Menyoo pulls out his holovid and keeps to himself the rest of the trip, with the exception of one night: before Mill goes to sleep, they watch a documentary together about illegal aftermarket ship parts sold out of Hutt space and the impact they have on organized racing. Mill returns to solitary meditation, but the day before arrival, Menyoo joins him for a session. TC had joined them on occasion during the first few days, but since crossing into the abandoned hyperspace lanes, TC has not left the cockpit.

It was the sixth day in, nearing the seventh, when Mill and Menyoo heard a familiar call from a voice they had nearly forgotten, "We are here!"


	27. Chapter 27

TC-26 kicks open the hatch so his shouting could be heard more clearly, "Are you guys ready!?"

Mill and Menyoo both respond with conciliatory excitement, "Yes TC, we are ready." Mill shakes his head and thinks, _trying to please a droid, that is what I do now,_ disappointed with himself.

Menyoo walks to the small window and sits cross-legged in front of it. He peers down at the dusty world below in search of a structure resembling a castle. _Should I be looking for a castle? Why am I imagining it to be a castle?_ He wonders to himself. He figures it's something about the description of D.G. and all the Sith stuff that makes him think it will be a castle, but he broadens his search to include any type of building or structure that appears. They are too far up to see any particular features of the planet, but even from this distance, Menyoo can confidently say there is nothing special about the modest planet below. "Hey TC, what's the plan? Are we going to scan for it? Or are we just going to fly across the surface and look? The republic probably has some cool toys for this sort of thing, right?"

TC responds, "Yeah, most ships are now equipped with all sorts of tools capable of finding what we are looking for now. For example, some can project lasers across the planet and seek out structures on its surface, report the likely composition of materials based on the relative densities, reflective capabilities, and mineral structures, then returns to the ship to submit the findings. Others scan from space to determine how many structures fit the description we are searching for. For a planet this empty, we could afford to be broad with our description. There are some that utilize experimental gravitational waves to discover man-made structures in particular, some use data from reflected light, and others use magnification and VI processing. Many options with varying degrees of success. All quite high."

Menyoo's mouth increasingly widened as TC continued his list, until his forehead primarily became a hole with teeth (a sight Mill could not help but turn away from, which he feels bad for later.) "That is amazing!" Menyoo says with jubilant enthusiasm, "which are we going to use!?"

"Oh, we do not possess any of those methods. The Republic does as a whole, like you asked. We were not outfitted with upgrades so we will have to fly around and look instead. But I can tell you about my last few days while we look! It has been hectic!"

The excitement drains noticeably from Menyoo's face, but TC's threat to tell them all about his last three days inspires him to perch at the window and search, "Let's get this over with." Mill sits next to Menyoo and watches through the window alongside him. The planet draws near; Its image grows, encompassing the entire pane as the ship descends into the lower atmospheres of Jaguada. Once they get to a proper height for surveying— low enough to find D.G's old home, and high enough to cover a lot of ground—Mill says to Menyoo, "Is it just me, or are you expecting a castle? I can't help but look for a castle."

TC-26 tells Mill and Menyoo about piloting through the abandoned space lanes. His summary includes an unexpected excursion through an unmarked asteroid field; passage around the treacherous Stygian Caldera—a nebula that protects the Esstran sector containing Jaguada—which he describes with profuse detail; and the presence of several ships leaving the only pass to and from the abandoned sector. After fifteen minutes of TC's verbose reporting, and Mill and Menyoo's intent search for any sign of past life, TC finishes his account of his last few days, "All in all, it was tough, but exciting! You two put me to the test, which is good because I have not been tested in years," Mill notes that as another sign of how little the high council cared for his safety. TC continues on, "So, what did you guys do while I was busy? Anything exciting? Preparing for the mission? Training your minds?"

Mill and Menyoo share an uncertain glance and a guttural "uhh…" escape their mouths. Menyoo answers first, "Well, I watched a really good piece on Bantha farming. It talked about how they are overbred, and some of the unethical farming conditions on unregulated planets. It's actually quite sad."

Menyoo then looks at Mill for his turn to speak. Mill is amid his slow, feigned-interest nod when he catches his eye, then sighs and answers, "I um. Well I slept quite a bit. You know, to prepare my body, just in case. And… watched a documentary with Menyoo. You would probably like it pilot, it's about racing. And, other things."

"Oh." TC responds, then remains silent for the rest of the search. After another fifteen minutes pass, they see something standing distinct from the smooth sea of endless yellow sand: a textured orange dot. TC is the first to spot it far off in the distance and yells to alert Mill and Menyoo, "We have something!" The ship dips suddenly, forcing them head-first into the window. Menyoo catches himself with his hands, while Mill puts his legs out to stop himself. They then endure a series of sudden turns and intermittent drops produced by TC's zealous piloting, before the ship finally settles into a comfortable hover. TC shouts down to them, "You should be able to see it now!" Mill and Menyoo peer out the window to see a fortress directly beneath them.

The entire complex is defendable, like a castle should be, and contains all the necessary parts—but the _castle_ below is far from what they were expecting. For one, the black Sith fortress of death is only a shade darker than the sand, creating the impression of a massive sand castle. The ramparts snake along the perimeter of the castle, with rounded stations every meter or so, giving the structure an obtuse appearance; unlike the sharp, tight angles of storybook castles that Mill and Menyoo were expecting.

Walkways extend out from opposite ends, with winding ramps that curve away from the corners toward the immediate front of the castle gates, providing a convenient entryway up to the battlements. Large doors once covered the massive holes in front, but all that remains of them are splintered boards of withering wood with chunks ripped out in various places around the edges. There are no pointy architectural pieces, bastions, or free-standing towers; instead, a large two-story building sits off-center, with a few small buildings surrounding it.

Mill yells up to TC, "Now remember, we are looking for Twin peaks." TC pulls the ship up and steadies it directly above the castle, enabling their search for something resembling a peak among the sprawling sands. Since Mill and Menyoo are confined to the small window, they only cover about sixty degrees worth of their surroundings. Menyoo gets up and clears his bunk. Mill begins to ask him what he is doing, but it becomes clear when he lifts open the door, and his bunk with it, into the air, revealing another lens into the plain desert scene

Menyoo asks Mill if he still has Sbeit's macrobinoculars. Mill rummages through his bag searching for them as Menyoo stares into the expanse. Before Mill can find them, Menyoo shouts, "I see something! They aren't exactly peaks, but there is something over there." Menyoo points into the distance. Mill drops his bag and walks over beside him to look.

"There does appear to be two things sticking out of the sand. It's probably our best shot." Then shouting loud enough for TC to hear, Mill commands, "Pilot, take us to the right, about 2 kilometers."

TC-26 complies, gently turning the ship so the Jedi do not fall out. With light acceleration, the ship glides to where Menyoo pointed. At a closer glance, it appears to be the tips of much larger rock formations buried in the sand. Mill and Menyoo muse over the rocky pillars below, when Mill says aloud, "It doesn't make any sense."

Menyoo responds to him in a dispirited tone, "Mill, remember this place is over 500 years old. It was probably overtaken by the sand. If his tomb is down there, I don't think we are getting to it. And you saw, there is nothing else around."

Mill says defiantly, "No, it is down there and we are meant to be down there with it. Get your things together. We'll drop down and check it out. If it is unreachable, so be it, we'll head back to Coruscant. We've come too far to not at least look."

Menyoo nods in agreement and begins packing his things. The ship remains hovering over the supposed tomb entrance until the Jedi are prepared. Mill brings all of the Sith books and volumes, putting some of them in Menyoo's bag because there is not enough room in his. Menyoo also brings plenty of water, keeping them wrapped and separate from the rare and aged books. They need something to keep the sand out of their faces and the sun from their bare skin, but neither brought such a garment. They decide their best option is the thin sheet from their bunk mats, and wrap the ratty, white fabric across their bodies and faces.

With their bags over their shoulders, and an encouraging leg-five from TC through the ceiling, the Jedi jump out of the lowered ship onto the bed of rough sand—fairly close to the peaks. When they hit the planet's surface, any bare skin from their legs or hands that touched the ground were scorched on impact, causing them a great deal of pain. They both jump into the air and shake the afflicted body parts; Mill goes so far as to blow on his palms, to no practical effect. The ships lifts slowly back into the sky, then pulls away, heading in the direction of the castle where Mill instructed TC to scan for any signs of activity—just to be safe.

Immediately after their rough landing, both Mill and Menyoo feel something under their feet. Physically, it is just sand; but through it, an intense energy pulsates into the soles of their feet. Menyoo can only feel its presence, but Mill can feel a little more: dominant emotions are carried along with the energy, intertwined with its signature, as if the source of the energy is both a living thing and feeling the emotions as it transmits them. Confusion? Ambivalence? No—dissonance. The feelings creep into Mill, causing him to feel panicked.

He begins to wander in semi-circular paths, holding his hands against the side of his head and pressing his outstretched fingers into his skull. He stares down at the ground as he shimmies from one step to the next. Menyoo asks him if he is alright, to which Mill responds, "Difficult to breathe. Confined and stale. Claustrophobic." Mill then holds himself around his waist and backs up until he is kitty corner behind Menyoo. His eyes make rapid passes from left to right across the barren landscape.

Menyoo says with concern, "Mill, you can't be feeling claustrophobic, we are in the open desert. What is going on?"

Mill look at Menyoo, his eyes having returned to a stationary position, and he says to Menyoo, "not me. Back up, over here. With me." Menyoo does as he is told, joining Mill by his side as they face forward toward the tips of the buried peaks. Mill puts his hand on Menyoo's shoulder and squeezes it tightly before giving it a shake, "We did it, here we are."

Menyoo begins to say, "here is what," but is cut off by a loud trembling in the ground beneath them. The sands ahead begin to sink down into some unseen basin; a thin line in front of their feet extends up to the base of the peaks 30 meters away. The line widens into a gap as more sand pours into the empty space appearing before their eyes. The trembling stops, as does the widening of the trail leading into the planet. Mill takes one step forward and peers down into the path.

"Following along?" He asks, tilting his head toward Menyoo and brandishing a sly smile that creeps up the right side of his mouth.

Menyoo responds between timorous breaths, "Uh yes, this is what we came for. But… did you do that?"

Mill says curtly, "nope," then plunges fearlessly into the tunnel. Menyoo hesitates to take his first step as he peers down into the indiscernible abyss. Mill continues on, steadily descending deeper with an uncharacteristic cockiness. Menyoo gulps, then forces himself to take the first step: he is more afraid of losing sight of Mill, than he is of entering the creepy dungeon. Immediately after he makes contact with the first step, flames erupt from braziers many meters down the path, igniting with a whoosh of air and flame. The walls come into view: solid masses of sand, somehow retaining their composure despite the open air beside them. A strong force must be present to pull off such a trick. That, or somebody went to a lot of trouble to scare away unwanted guests.

Regardless, Mill is halfway down the steps and Menyoo has only placed a foot into the sunken cavern. Menyoo pushes aside his negative thoughts, and calls on his newfound trust in Mill to give him the confidence needed to follow him into the depths below. With a hearty breath—the last breath of dry, open air he will breathe for a while— he plunges into the tomb entrance to face whatever secrets await them inside.


	28. Chapter 28

The steps take them significantly farther down than the 30-meter distance to the twin peaks. If the burial grounds are directly under the twin peaks rock formation, they may be traveling the full height of the monolith. One thing they know for sure: they are descending far into Jaguada. Menyoo yells up to Mill, "Hey, this is a pretty creepy start. I wasn't expecting rainbows and smiles, but this is a bit much don't you think?"

Without bothering to turn back toward him, Mill shushes Menyoo callously and continues down the path, unsympathetic toward Menyoo's unease. _He must be scared too, _Menyoo thinks to himself, justifying Mill's behavior while sporting a severe frown. After what felt to be entirely too long, they come across a large stone entryway with a curved door-head well over three meters above them. The room beyond the entrance is pitch black. The incredible darkness slows Menyoo's progression toward the cavern; meanwhile, Mill continues forward with no hesitation.

The moment Mill's foot breaches the entrance, the sound of igniting flame escapes into the tunnel from the room ahead. Two consecutive rows of fire curve from both sides of the door and work their way around the cavernous room as it is unveiled before them. The flames meet at the back wall of the cave where they combine to light a large, freestanding brazier. The small pyre imbues the entire room with a warm glow, providing the Jedi sight to examine the myriad of objects scattered about.

Before Menyoo can take a good look, Mill drops to his hands and knees and makes a wretched noise in pain. His cries continue as he lowers his head down to his chest. With the same urgency with which he was brought down, he picks himself up and ignites his lightsaber. He waves it frantically from side to side, inspecting the large room for an enemy nowhere to be found. "Do not come any closer Menyoo! Stay back!"

Mill continues his feverish exploration, bringing the saber to a defensive horizontal position over his chest as he steps cautiously into the open recess. A booming voice sounds through the cave, causing the stalks of Menyoo's eyes to go unvaryingly still. "Do not fret Jedi! I have invited you here, and I will do you no harm."

Mill releases his left hand from the lightsaber and lowers it down to his right side. He looks straight ahead at a long, rectangular object at the other end of the room and says toward it, "I see. So you meant no harm when you were taking control of my body? Because it didn't feel harmless!"

The disembodied voice responds, taking advantage of the deep resonance in his voice, amplified by a threatening echo bouncing between the cave walls, "I required a vessel to lead you into my tomb. If I wished harm, I would have stayed in your body and taken complete control. My time has passed, and I am merely a wisp of what I once was. I enabled your passage. Nothing more, nothing less."

Menyoo steps forward into the chamber, stopping short of being directly beside Mill. He looks around the tomb. The walls are stone—not compact sand like the tunnel walls. The ring of fire encircling the room is a chain of tallow candles hanging like slim, colorless carrots, slowly being consumed by the flames encroaching from their tips. The flames light the craggy walls with inconsistent flickers, causing shadowy grey shapes to emerge where the light meets the stone, and black stripes to form where incongruent slabs block the light's path. The only other objects in the room are an old wooden cart, decaying off to the right and broken in several pieces; and the simple, black brazier standing behind the rectangular box toward the back of the tomb. Menyoo joins Mill in his search for the source of the mysterious voice, "I take it you're D.G.? How are you alive after all these years?"

Above the rectangular object floats a ragged piece of black fabric, rippling in suspension mid-air (without even the faintest source of air flow being so far underground.) A hood sits slouched atop where a head would be; but containing no flesh, shapely darkness fills the space in its absence. The fabric lowers from its elevated position until it is eye level with Menyoo and Mill. The voice sounds again, but it is not projected from the fabric, once more surrounding the cave and the frightened Jedi within it, "Yes, I am D.G, as you would know me. I have long departed this place, leaving only a subsistent remnant of my former self. You, Jedi, front and center. I can sense you are of a correct mind. I have wanted someone like you to stumble across my tomb for far too long. I cannot imagine this is a mistake. You have found my writings yes?"

Before Mill can answer, Menyoo speaks up, seeking both confirmation and comfort from the spectral figure before Mill gets lost in conversation with it. "Wait! First, who are you? The only things we know about you is that you accept the name D.G., and that you are a dark force user! You will have to answer that first before we answer any questions for you."

Mill turns to face Menyoo. Menyoo cannot tell if he looks irritated or grateful, struggling to pinpoint any emotion as transient shades of black morph the features of Mill's face. Before Menyoo can figure it out, the voice answers, returning both their attentions to the floating fabric, "You have entered into my place of rest and act as though I am the intruder. I only have need for him, you are just serving to bother. Please, allow the adults to speak."

Menyoo's unease passes as it transforms from fear into anger. He steps boldly ahead, but Mill turns once again toward Menyoo. This time his expression is clear: _stand down._ Menyoo settles in beside Mill and surrenders the reigns to his mentor.

Mill says to D.G, "We are here because I have undertaken a journey to seek balance between the dark and light. My journey led me to your writings, and a note alongside them led me here. Although we have many questions, we first and foremost seek guidance and understanding. This same journey you too took long ago it would seem, but from the other side, yes? As a…"

"Sith." The voice says, drawing out the _th_ sound with a chilling rasp, "Yes, but you are not in need of information pertaining to my past. My origin does not matter, only my knowledge. You seek to take up the torch that was stolen from me, and my knowledge represents such a passage. I feel your so-called light side lives strongly within you, as do I sense your Jedi teachings, but this is no matter, I may still call you my champion. In fact, that may just be where you will succeed where I was unable. I sense great potential in you, even with such a late start as you have."

Menyoo speaks again, adopting a respectful tone in accordance with Mill's conduct, "Please forgive my earlier outbursts. I was merely afraid. I… wish to ask, if I may, is it Sith teachings that we require to move forward? You must understand why we would be hesitant to, uh, such a path. What is it you would have us do? Or, for Mill to do?" Mill gives an approving nod to Menyoo from the side.

The voice cackles before responding, "Ahh Jedi, you cannot hide your true feelings from me. It is fear that makes you act as you do. It is also this fear that will be your downfall. It too was the cause of my own. I sense I would have been able to make great use of you before my death and… ulterior fascinations. You will have a tough road ahead young orange one. Your question, it represents the heart of the problem. Jedi teachings, Sith teachings, they are dogma, not truth. I ask you not to explore the Sith, but to explore what you call 'the dark side.' Such immature epithets. These simplistic renderings of complicated matters are what plague both groups, to which we collectively belong."

Menyoo scrunches his mouth—the Ongree alternative to scrunching eyes—and answers impatiently, "Okay, but you didn't tell us what we need to do? You just gave us more riddles, like the ones that brought us here."

Mill presses his right elbow against Menyoo's chest, signaling Menyoo to stop talking. Mill then speaks quickly to regain them any favor Menyoo may have lost with D.G., "I'm sorry master, he merely asks for clearer directions regarding our next step. What is it that you see will best further our common study? Where did you leave off perhaps, before your unfortunate and untimely death?"

Menyoo, against his better judgement, whispers "Kiss ass" under his breath—but does manage to refrain from rolling his eyes. The room remains silent. Menyoo looks around to see if anything has changed. The fabric still floats above the coffin, but the waving ends of the cowl have gone slack. He then notices the patterns of light and shadows along the walls have changed to match the higher elevations of the fire along each candle. His focus shifts back toward the fabric after it suddenly drops out of the air to rest over the rectangular box it was previously suspended above. Menyoo prepares to defend himself if need be; He plants his right foot behind him and lowers his hand to a position slightly above his lightsaber hilt.

His hand quivers as a few nerve-racking moments pass before the voice speaks again, "Illusions! This is our ways, but it need not be. You boy are far too impressed by them still, and that is why you are not ready, and may never be. You on the other hand, Jedi Master, I was able to learn a lot from my short stay in your mind. Millard is your name?"

Menyoo turns toward Mill with his mouth open to a stretching gape; his eyes wide with excitement. Before he can say anything, Mill returns his elbow to Menyoo's chest, this time pressing it into his sternum as a warning. Menyoo mouths _ow_ and rubs his chest, but his beaming expression remains as he resumes listening to D.G. "I sense you have killed in anger and hate. Even so, you have shown great restraint by wading off the effects of the force's attempts to control you. The Jedi teachings are well embedded within you, but these teachings are to blame for those people's deaths. You must come to terms with this. The Jedi's teachings can be of great benefit to you, but I wager they may be too deeply ingrained. That is why Sith teachings will be utilized in instruction. This is not a call to their ways, but instead, an impartial instruction to utilize their teachings, as they have studied the part of the force your kind have disavowed for so long. Even now, I mistakenly refer to it as separate from what is. You must do better than I have done."

Mill bows and says, "Yes Master." To Mill's surprise, Menyoo bows with him.

D.G. continues, directing his statement at Menyoo to start, "Now to answer your request for clear instruction that you so desperately require, the next step in your journey is to your discretion. What Millard must do is practice with the emotions he has been reacquainted with after a lifetime of repressing them. Go somewhere that requires change, and become the agents of that change. Use your emotions and fight against evil. You must let your emotions pour forth. Use them to your advantage. Unlike the Sith, however, do not fight out of hate and disgust. Instead, use life-promoting emotions. Those that relate to creation and preservation. Protection, love, righteousness. These are the emotions that one should use to fight, and only through practice will you achieve this at a visceral level. A true level of understanding. Kill or do not kill, but fight for something dear to you, and feel newfound power rise to the surface. For so long I had fought out of anger and greed. And you, you fought because you were told to. Because you were taught it is what the force requires. Fight for what you want, but try and be virtuous and benevolent with your desires. That, is your next step Jedi. The one I could never take."

Mill begins thinking about where he could take them next. A few ideas come to mind, but he becomes self-conscious each time he thinks any longer than a couple of seconds due to a suspicion that D.G. still has access to his thoughts. Menyoo says to D.G, with no particular direction to direct his voice, "So, are we good to leave?"

D.G has one final thing to say, beginning once again by speaking directly to Menyoo, "Impatient once more," The voice responds, "So be it. Before you leave, I will bestow upon you two an ability. It is only because the bond you share, that I include you in this youngling. Keep that in mind. Now, with this ability, I recommend you partake in a ritual together. From this ritual, you will both have greater insight into the side of the force you seek to understand, and the effect it can have on living things. Please, step up to my final place of rest and place a hand each on the lid."

Mill and Menyoo look at each other; neither indicates that they should refuse, but nervous energy exudes from both of them. They walk in unison toward the rectangular box that, to neither of their surprises, is a sarcophagus. On account of D.G.'s castle and demesne, Menyoo expects a well-crafted, ornate coffin with minute inscriptions and fastidious detail. The object defies these expectations; instead, better matching the plain black brazier and cheap, broken cart off to the side. The sarcophagus is a misshapen lump of stone, indented by scribbles in the form of lazily carved runes across the sides: written in a similar looking language to what is used in the Sith books—but written poorly enough that it looks like it was carved by D.G. after he had already gone mad.

They stand side by side over the coffin and close their eyes—not because they were instructed to, but because it seemed appropriate. After placing their hands on the lid, they feel a subtle power thrum through the morbid capsule, before a soft headache sets in for each of them. They feel the headache shift position from the center of their skull to the back of their eyes. A subtle burning replaces the headache-like symptom, before dissolving completely.

They leave their hands on the coffin for a moment longer, but nothing more happens. Menyoo is the first to take his hand off, then says aloud, "Uhh, I don't feel any different. What did you do?"

The grisly voice fills the room once more, "Now it is all up to you. Millard, please open your bag and take out the second book from the top." Menyoo uncomfortably shifts his eyes toward Mill without moving any part of his face. Mill obliges, dropping the bag to the ground and taking out the second book in the pile. The book he was instructed to grab is from the Sith collection entitled, _Sith Techniques: From Master to Apprentice._ D.G. follows up with further instructions, "Now open it to the 82nd page." Mill does as he is asked. When he opens the page, he is startled to find that he can suddenly read the writing. What once were strange lines and a random assortment of stochastic dots, are now letters in galactic basic, and easily readable. "Yes, you are now able to read the ancient language of the Sith. This is a great gift, and the only thing I can provide for you to help you on your journey. Everything else left from my physical life has been sacked or stolen from my once hallowed home. Follow the pages exactly, and see for yourself the power and extent of Sith cruelty."

Mill remains crouched with the open book facing him. Menyoo stands above him and squints down at page 82. The heading reads: _Bleeding a Lightsaber._


	29. Chapter 29

"Bleeding a lightsaber" Menyoo reads, whispering the first few lines of the sinister text under his breath, "Reputed to have an indomitable penchant for the light side of the force, the Kyber crystal—power source for Jedi weaponry—exerts a will of its own. It is tradition for an apprenticed Sith to acquire the lightsaber of a Jedi felled by his or her own blade, and bleed the newly acquired saber. Through this process, the Sith desecrate the purity of the Jedi's most cherished allies— the Kyber crystals themselves. This is not a mere quixotic ritual; but a test of a budding Sith's own will against that of nature in its purest form." Menyoo stops reading to look indiscriminately into the air and yell, "Are you tricking us!? This _ritual_ as you call it reeks of a trap."

A sickly silence settles on the cave as Menyoo's echoes cease after several repeated booms of his fearful reproach. The presence of D.G, an electrifying thrum of ancient energy, has either exited the tomb, or concealed itself in the shifting shadows along the torch-lit walls. Mill says to Menyoo, "I think he is gone. Maybe for good, maybe not, but this parts up to us now. I have a theory. It says here at the bottom that a Sith agent must empty all of his pent-up hatred, rage, and bloodlust into the saber in order to bleed it. That is what makes it turn red. But D.G. said our next step is to train ourselves to embrace emotions that counter things like hate and anger. Maybe if we focus on that, then something different will happen. Maybe it's a test."

Menyoo responds ardently, "And maybe we'll lose ourselves in the process! What if this, I don't know, corrupts us? Turns us evil?"

"That is why I will be doing it alone." Menyoo does not know how to respond, so he blankly stares at Mill instead. He does not want to partake in the ritual, and he has made that clear, but letting Mill volunteer to go at it alone seems cruel. Mill continues speaking before Menyoo is able to sort his feelings on the matter, "He said we should do it together, but there is a chance you are right and this is a trick. I will do it alone, I have made up mind."

Immediate relief calms Menyoo's nerves, followed by a wave of guilt. He should at least fight the idea. If Mill changes his mind due to light opposition, then he was not certain enough to begin with. Menyoo makes a single impassioned attempt at changing Mill's mind, "You heard him, he could have taken over your body before, permanently. But he chose not to? If he is evil, and we already know he was a Sith, then he may just be waiting for his power to grow through this crazy ritual. This could turn out really bad! Is it so important that we do this?"

Mill answers calmly, which both startles and impresses Menyoo considering the gravity of his following statement: "It is important. Regardless of his intention, it is a test for myself. If the force is truly on my side, then it will ensure my safety and success. My love and compassion will have to win over the dark side's wicked intentions. If I cannot succeed, if I bleed the crystal red like a Sith would, I am too far gone and I must be stopped. That is where you come in Menyoo. Whether D.G. tries to corrupt me, or I become instable, the first sign of trouble, I want you to cut me down. Before D.G. or I can hurt anyone. We cannot allow evil to escape this cave. I'm leaving that grueling task to you. Do not hesitate. You know what to look for."

Menyoo is speechless. Mill really trusts him this much? And furthermore, he is willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of this test? Mill's dedication to the force has always seemed like more of a pass-time to Menyoo: a choice based on a lack of interest elsewhere. For the first time, his true dedication becomes apparent to Menyoo. _This must be what my Uncle sees in him_, Menyoo thinks to himself. His thoughts return to pessimism as reality settles on the perceiving edge of his conscious, _and now Mill is counting on me of all people_. Menyoo's nerves flare once again, but by way of their spark, a small flame grows in his belly. If Mill can approach adversity with boundless courage, as Menyoo has seen on several occasions, then he too must rise to the occasion. Menyoo is still without words, but manages a confident nod, and prepares himself for whatever may come.

Mill turns back to the book, reads it for a few moments longer, then hands it to Menyoo. He makes his way to the middle of the tomb, where he sits down cross-legged and pulls out his lightsaber. With determination written across his face, he poises for his embarkment into the spiritual; but before he is able to start the ritual, Menyoo interrupts, "Hey wait, it says you are supposed to use a fallen Jedi's weapon." Menyoo digs into the wrapped bed sheet he tied around himself and pulls out the lightsaber from Socorro—the one he took off the assassin's corpse—and holds it out toward Mill, "besides, you can't risk your own." Mill stares at it expressionless, then shifts his eyes down to the old hilt laying in his lap. Menyoo tries harder to convince him, "You said you were going to throw it away anyway, but you forgot about it. If we need to use a lightsaber, and this one better fits the description, we might as well use it. We could always leave it after." Mill contemplates the decision for a few seconds. Once he makes up his mind, he reaches his hand out quickly and grabs the hilt decisively from Menyoo's outstretched hands.

Mill puts his personal lightsaber away, and lays the fallen Jedi's weapon flat across his open palms. He closes his eyes and begins again, entering into a light, meditative state. Before he is fully invested, Menyoo interrupts once again, "Hey wait. Mill, it says here you are supposed to grip it with both hands just below the emitter." Mill opens a single eye to deliver a warning glare to Menyoo, but he is too busy reading from the book to notice: "'Grasp the blade just under the emitter, with enough mental and physical tenacity prepared to steal its life, like you would around an enemy's throat. The crystal's will can only be shattered by a callous disregard for its own free will. Squeezing the last shred of dignity as it squirms under your,' oh jeez, this sounds brutal. Are you sure you wanna—"

—"Enough Menyoo, I will do this my own way. Quiet please." Menyoo obliges, witnessing the ceremony with fragile optimism; his hand tightly grips his own lightsaber, with hope that he will not have to make the decision entrusted to him. Mill resumes the ritual. After closing his dissuasive eye and breathing in one last gulp of the musty, tomb air, he falls headlong into a communion with the blade—with which an attempt was made on his life.

Mill is led into an immersive dream akin to his experience at the Sith shrine on Xagobah. Like Xagobah, his perspective has shifted into that of a fleeting dream-like state of consciousness. He awakes in a cavern, different than the one he began in: Walls of jagged rock bathed in warm torchlight are replaced by thick, ancient walls of dense ice lit by a soft, blue light that shines through each iridescent layer. The piercing light refracts through each layer in a multitude of directions for the next layer to scramble—leaving wavy blue lines dancing on the wall opposite from the obscured origin of the light.

Mill knows exactly where he is. The ice caves of Illum; the place where fledgling Jedi trainees search for kyber crystals to mine, then extract, to become the power source for their lightsaber. Mill looks down at himself to see which form he has taken. This is not a memory: he is his normal, adult self. _This must instead be a vision, but for what purpose?_ He wonders.

An unforgiving chill creeps into Mill's body, numbing his bones and slowing his thoughts. It is unlike the cold, temple attic in Xagobah; that cold was synthetic and malicious—a symptom of Sith influence. Illum is different. This cold is natural and pure, powerful, untainted and untamed. Mill rubs his hands together then plunges them into his clothing, to no avail. The clothing has no effect, nor does the place itself: it is merely a phenomenon of the vision. The force behind this trip included the cold with purpose, and no amount of meddling on Mill's part will change it.

Mill follows the path aimlessly as he makes this way through the narrow caves, guided by sheer walls of ice on either side. There are no alternative routes, no forks or intersections, so he continues forward, trudging through the exhausting frost. After a minute of walking, he begins to feel a faint sensation from within. Although the feeling is slight, he figures it must be important if the simulated cold left every other sensation numb. He hustles forward in fear of losing the signal, and the source with it. The feeling grows stronger the farther in he travels, slowly manifesting into an all too familiar feeling that Mill would have preferred never to revisit.

An unknown energy binds him to whatever lies ahead, guiding him forward through the glistening cavern. The sensation eerily resembles what he felt during his duel with the assassin, before his opponent was drained of his force abilities, and Mill, of his energy and motivation. The difference between then and now: the energy-tether attaching Mill to the thing ahead is less biased than the one on Socorro. During the duel it felt like the force power originated from within Mill, with a hook on the opposite end stuck into the assassin. In the present vision, the construct is barbed on both ends, bringing the two selected beings to a common point in the middle. Mill shakes his head, wary of reaching the common point; he trudges on regardless.

The path opens into a small room, less than half the size of the tomb where his physical body awaits him. He steps lightly into the room and inspects it. A large ice stalagmite stands in the center, thinning in the middle, with thickening limbs that join with the stalactite above it. The walls are smooth and translucent, with a dim blue glow that breathes through the icy sheets that encapsulate the room—like being in a hallowed glacier submerged in a bioluminescent ocean. The ground is one solid slab of white, without a single imperfection, as if the chamber had never been discovered before today.

There are no tunnels leading out of the room; this must be the vision's intended destination. He looks behind him to plan his escape if the need arises, to find that the tunnel he entered from is no longer present. Seeing no other option, he takes a bold step forward into the room. As he places his foot down, the tether yanks at his right side, as if the thing to which he is attached suddenly shifted position. He flexes to secure his own, then turns his head toward the source of the pull and finds the object he was compelled to discover. Against a swelling body of accumulated ice sits a chest-like structure–also made of ice—surrounded by clusters of more ice with ends whittled down to sharp tips. A blue glow resonates from the center, similar in color to the various blue lights throughout the caves, but concentrated to a small object contained in the center of the block.

As Mill approaches the chest, the force construct directing him becomes more focused: as if it were a thinning leash, pulling at a more precise point on Mill, but with the same amount of force. This helps Mill distinguish the direction of the pull more clearly; the small object contained in the ice is his target. _Could it be a kyber crystal? _He wonders to himself. This was not Mill's experience when mining one all those years ago; although, it is not uncommon for visions to be more symbolic than practical. He steps within reaching distance and receives his answer.

A moment of understanding passes between the two entities fitted to opposing ends of the shackles that bind them. Mill learns in that moment that he is communing with the crystal fitted to the assassin's blade, and the crystal in turn analyzes Mill back. What initially feels like a peaceful meeting, quickly turns into an apathetic battle for survival: Whatever it is the crystal saw in Mill, it did not like. The hooks set in both Mill and the crystal activate. With a fit of searing pain, a flash of images force their way into Mill's vision, concealing the background of whites and blues with a blurry array of intense colors.

The images are aggressive, but abstract and difficult to interpret. Mill cannot decisively pick out relatable content in either of the images forced on him, but a message is communicated nonetheless: the crystal trapped in the ice is hurt and afraid. Mill can tell that the pain and misery is being transmitted directly from the kyber crystal itself: an actualization of its will through the force. As images continue to bombard Mill, the associated emotions become more distinct: Betrayal, corruption, pollution, and beguilement are all prevailing themes.

Mill tries to fight back, but every bit of energy he musters arrives from desperation, which the crystal senses, and consequently lashes out with more defiance, fueled by a primordial fear too sublime for Mill to empathize with. Mill pushes harder, but any progress is stunted by a fitting reaction from the crystal. The crystal's energy is unadulterated, clean and sincere, and moves with the stubborn force of nature. Mill's energy is an inferior antithetic—synthetic, and tainted by mortal anxieties and chronophobic caprice.

The battle develops into a matter of attrition. They are interlocked in an intense emotional struggle, back and forth—action and negation. Resting his hands against the block of ice, Mill strains to overpower the combatant energy, pouring forth his will to tranquilize the crystal inside. He does not want to hurt it, but he must make it stop—at least long enough to find a peaceful means of progressing.

Mill begins to gain the upper hand, and digs in on the advantage. He strives his head forward, as if ramming it through a force field; every centimeter he progresses, the weaker the crystal becomes. He manages to push through until his head hovers just above the edge of the block, at which point the crystal begins to wail in agony. The scream is heard directly in his mind, dripping with anxiety and pain, causing an intense feeling of dread to coat every bit of Mill's exposed body, like a phantom chill in an insensate simulacrum.

The crystal is hurting, and Mill is the present cause. He cannot back down, or it will press its own advantage. Then what happens? He continues to press forward, with equal parts pity and determination. _I'm not evil, _Mill thinks in his head, but his message is not received by the agonized kyber crystal beneath him. He keeps it at bay, writhing underneath, as he considers how he should proceed. The struggles ensues until Mill lets up just long enough for the crystal to respond with a surge of will-power, morphing its scream into a shout and forcing Mill to his knees. He holds on and fights back, matching its desperation.

A crack forms down the front of the ice block, and the crystal reacts with more fear, and an even louder scream than before, adding an active migraine onto the list of pains that burden Mill's oneiric body. The two sides remain in an internecine stalemate. Mill lowers his head toward the ground and closes his eyes; he focuses all his strength and will into a final attempt to subdue the kyber crystal.

As Mill prepares for another strong offensive, an old voice instructs him from behind, "You are too aggressive with it. It is scared and alone. Show it compassion, not power. I have taught you to be how you are. For that, I am at fault. Be better." Mill's eyes widen and his teeth begin to chatter. The feelings of pain lessen as his attention shifts toward the voice emanating from behind.

"Master!?" Mill turns toward the source, but nothing is there. The pain flares again as the crystal intensifies its assault. "Ughhhh.. Ahhhhh!" The pain lowers him to the crystal's height. He hunches over his knees, grasping the side of the block to steady himself as he holds back the crystal's onslaught long enough to make sense of what he heard.

The voice returns, "I have become more than just your Master. Listen to me, you must pacify this crystal. Make your intentions clear and known. Be sincere. Do not do this for you, or for the mission. Do it for the galaxy, or truth, or whatever drives you. Show it you care, and that you mean it no harm. Perhaps, do it for Menyoo."

Tears form in Mill's eyes. Hearing Corovack's voice was more painful than the Crystal's attacks. And he knows about Menyoo; he must be watching over them. A calm settles over Mill, despite the pain and exhaustion. He thinks about Menyoo standing above him now. What could he be thinking? What is happening in the real world? If Mill's struggle is apparent to Menyoo, and he has not killed him yet, then Menyoo too must be conflicted. Mill should have never given Menyoo that task: he will never forgive himself if he kills Mill by his judgement alone. He will second guess himself every day forward, and follow down a dark path, just as D.G. foretold. Mill cannot let that happen.

Thinking of Menyoo, and the crystal—along with the undue pain it has been subjected to—Mill stands up boldly, stoically blocking the surge of pain forming at the base of his skull. He places both hands over the ice block and wills it not to obey, but to rest. He thinks positive thoughts and exerts what he can through images of his own, transmitting them to the crystal:

Memories of trips into Vakeyya with Darren; lightsaber training with Corovack at the academy; his first piloting mission with Drew-Keel after becoming a full jedi; the few times he can remember smiling and laughing with Sbeit; and lastly, a string of back and forth teasing between him and Menyoo. His memories grow somber as he continues to recall his past: Mill crying as he is handed to Darren as a young child; the jedi dragging Mill away from Darren's body; a moving heart to heart he and Corovack shared about the families they left behind; the day of Corovack's accident; a nasty fight between him and Sbeit shortly after he became a full Jedi, one that kept them silent for years; and lastly the killing of the Makurth on Moltok.

Thinking back on all these memories leaves Mill vulnerable and emotionally drained, especially after hearing Corovack's voice behind him. The crystal does not take advantage. It instead returns Mill's sentiments with a slew of its own visuals. They were the same pictures as before, but Mill could make them out much more clearly. They are still not quite images—which would make sense seeing as it is a crystal incapable of sight—but instead abstract depictions of feelings resulting from things that happened in its past. Betrayal, corruption, duplicity; it all adds up. The jedi who the crystal chose became a murderer, killing in secret behind the council's back for high-level members of the senate—and for his most recent job, a high-council member. His every target was killed by a will of greed, dispatched by a weapon powered by the unwilling crystal. The assassin forced his will on the crystal, betrayed its trust, and robbed it of its purity.

The two understand one another, and a period of peaceful inactivity allows both a moment's rest. Mill backs up from the frozen block and faces an open palm toward the crystal. Inserting a bit of willpower on the tether between the two, Mill gently urges the crystal toward him, giving it the option to come or remain where it is. The crystal wiggles a bit in its icy prison. After carving out space from within the block, it shimmies its way through the ice, breaking through the top layer with ease and levitating above the chest. Mill opens both palms and holds them out in front of him facing up. The crystal floats above his palm, then lowers to rest in Mill's right hand.

Mill closes his fingers around it and feels the crystal melt, warming his hands where it seeps into his skin. The warmth crawls along his body, warming his extremities first before working its way toward the center of his body. Comfort and relief settle over the tired old Jedi as he sits down against the ice chest, leaning his arm against one of the spiky ice spears jutting out of a crystal to his right. The warmth coalesces into a fuzzy membrane that surrounds his body, enabling a comfortable equilibrium to lull his eyes closed as he relaxes against the ice. The feeling of warmth extends out of his body into the world around him. Even the icy-cold ground becomes hot under where he sits. The block against his back melts from behind him until nothing remains to hold him up; As condensation drips onto his back, so too does sweat from his forehead.

Mill opens his eyes to a jarring change of scenery. He is back in the cave on Jaguada. The assassin's lightsaber sits in his palm like before, but his hands are sweaty, along with the rest of the body. His clothing hugs his drenched skin as he jerks himself forward. He does not have long to assess the situation around him—like being awaken by a provocative alarm.

Menyoo yanks at Mill's arm to pick him up as unexplained gusts of wind twist belligerently from behind. Wailing rings out from the typhoon, whipping around in the current as a steady supply of echoes join the chaos, forming a chorus of cacophonous moaning. Mill instinctively pulls back against Menyoo's grab, prompting an initial look of irritation, followed by a revelation and immediate relief, "Oh great, you're awake. We need to go now!"


	30. Chapter 30

Menyoo reaches down a second time to grab Mill, helping him to his feet as the mad winds close in behind them. They make their way toward the door, but before they can squeeze through the tight space, Menyoo fumbles and hits the stone frame with his shoulder. He begins to slump down to the cave floor, but Mill reaches down and yanks him up by the armpit before he can. "No you don't!" He pulls him up to his feet and directs him as he stumbles through the exit.

"Come back!" A voice calls out from the turbulent cave, earthy like D.G.s, but more aged and frantic. Menyoo begins to trip again, but catches himself on the tunnel wall. As he presses his hand against the wall of packed sand, the grainy material parts around his fingers, bunching between each digit.

Menyoo says weakly, "The walls are crumbling, he is trying to bury us alive!"

Mill responds with defiant vigor, "He'll have to try a lot harder than that!" He grabs Menyoo's left arm and places it over his neck. Lifting Menyoo up with his shoulder, he climbs the steps leading up and out of the tunnel, helping steer each of Menyoo's frail steps. The wind behind them lashes out with a strong gust against their backs, forcing Menyoo forward onto his knees, and extinguishing the flames lighting the tunnel. The only light sources left to help guide their escape is the Jaguada sun peeking in from far above them, and the faint glow of the large brazier tucked away in the back of D.G.'s discarded tomb, lighting the edge of the first twenty steps.

The demonic voice closes distance from below, "Menyoo! We could do great things! Let go of him, we don't need him. Stay with me! I can sense your potential!" Their steps soften as the sand crumbles around them, gradually filling the tunnel. After struggling up the first ten steps—with Mill's assistance—Menyoo turns his head around to catch a glimpse of what is following them: the raggedy shawl that had fallen onto the coffin lid floats in the center of the mayhem behind them. Unlike before, dark humanoid features hide within the confines of the shawl's hood. The brazier's light is suffocated by the wall of sand that has risen high enough to rebury the tomb entrance, sealing away its contents for another half a millennium, if not longer.

As they continue their desperate climb out of the tunnel, it becomes increasingly difficult to ascend. The sand at their feet becomes thicker by the second, causing Mill to have to lift his feet, and Menyoo, higher with each consecutive step. Cascading sand flies into the pair's faces, obstructing their vision and depositing both in their ears and on the crevice of their lips. Menyoo jerks himself out of Mill's grip and stumbles down a couple steps to face the impending hurricane head on. "Enough!" Menyoo yells. He performs an aggressive force push toward the spiraling winds, directed at the bundle of cloth at its center.

Mill turns around and yells down to him, "Menyoo no!"

Menyoo's force push rushes down the tunnel, grabbing mounds of sand from the collapsing walls and propelling it forward within the funnel of energy. The spiral of sand and energy hits the target directly. The sand clings to the black silhouette of a man, revealing his large, ghostly visage before blasting the figure deep into the dark recesses of the planet. Menyoo's force push strips the walls of their outer layers of sand, widening the tunnel beneath them, and quickening the pace at which the sand pours out of the disentangling walls—like a puncture in an hourglass. Menyoo, revitalized by the removal of D.G., turns and shoves Mill to resume their escape. Mill continues on without hesitation, leading Menyoo out of the dark trench and into the brilliant Jaguada sun.

Within the last five steps a final, smothered howl rises from the submerged abyss, "Menyoo! You will find your way to our side! It is just a matter of ti…" Mill jumps dramatically off of the final step and out of the ditch. Menyoo is close behind, stepping out within seconds of the tunnel's complete enclosure: swallowing D.G. and stifling his final threat. The momentum from Menyoo's exuberant departure leads to him falling to his knees, unprepared for flat ground after all his frantic climbing. He quickly shifts his weight from his palms to his fabric-coated arms once the burn sets in from the harsh heat locked away in the bare, Jaguada sand.

Menyoo remains in a kneeling position. Mill presses his hands against his quads and leans back, placing his head into the air and squinting in response to the sun's intense rays. They do not speak for a full minute as they catch their breath and appreciate their near-fatal escape from the sinking cavern. Between challenged breaths, Menyoo says to Mill, "Call TC, let's get off this damned rock." Mill nods approvingly, then calls for an evac in between shallow pants. Menyoo shifts his body sideways to a sitting position; Mill shuffles over to take a seat beside him.

Mill let's out a fretful puff of air and says to Menyoo, "I suppose you were right, he did come after us like you said he would. I really thought we could trust him."

Menyoo responds while looking down at the hot sand between his knees, "I don't think what happened was his fault. And it certainly wasn't yours. The reason I was having trouble running in the cave was because he was trying to take over my body. Now I know what you felt," Menyoo looks up to deliver an empathetic glance before returning his eyes to the arid soil, "he was confused and afraid, he had no control. I think the ritual set him off. For a couple seconds he got in my head and almost, uh, took me over I guess. It was strange, but in those moments I felt confused, isolated, like I couldn't comprehend what was happening around me. I think it was how he felt. Especially being dead, I couldn't imagine. And the writings said he had gone crazy before dying." A couple seconds pass before he finishes his account, "If I weren't so preoccupied, I may have even attacked you." Again, Menyoo looks up at Mill, adding weight to his final statement.

"I see," Mill says back in a docile tone. "What he said about your fate, about you heading down a dark path. And then again about you finding your way back to them, whoever _they_ are. What do you make of it?"

Menyoo at this point had taken his lightsaber out and is drawing in the sand with the hilt. He answers optimistically, but with detached inflection, "I don't make anything of it. If it truly is fated, then what can I do? I have to believe in our mission, because if we don't, nobody will. So, I'll continue on ahead and work on the things that need to be worked on as we go, to wherever it is we are going. I can't do any better than that." Mill nods with his lips pursed, impressed by the maturity of his answer, but feeling less confident about of D.G.'s warnings than Menyoo appears to be. If Menyoo is shaken, he is not showing it. His answer will have to suffice, and succeeded in making Mill feel a bit more at ease.

Mill breaks the silence once again, "Well, we still didn't get anything out of the ritual. And any chance we had of speaking more with D.G. is now ruined."

Before Mill had finished his statement, Menyoo stood up quickly with newfound enthusiasm. He says excitedly after Mill finishes, "You didn't get to see what happened, did you!?"

Mill looks up at him with a confused expression, still squinting through the sun, "I, uh maybe. What happened?"

"The lightsaber! You were convulsing, and muttering nonsense, it all looked really bad, but then you gripped the lightsaber and kinda leaned forward awkwardly. Then all of the sudden a shockwave blasted out from you and the lightsaber! That's what made D.G. go looney on us, but the lightsaber turned on when the energy was released and, well, see for yourself!"

Mill stands up and faces Menyoo. He pulls out the assassin's lightsaber and twists it around in his hands, "It feels a bit heavier." Menyoo responds with a big smile and slow nod, as if to say through expression: _go on. _Mill looks back down and turns on the lightsaber. Out of the emitter sprouts a purple blade, with a light-violet center surrounded by a deep, royal purple contour. "Whoa!" Mill backs up in surprise, taking the lightsaber with him. "I have never seen anything like this. Or heard of anything like this. Have you?"

Menyoo laughs and says back, "no I have not. But it has to be a good sign, right? I mean if you bled the lightsaber, then it would be red, but it's not. And it still changed color, which I was told is impossible. I've never seen one that isn't blue or green."

Mill mutters distractedly while studying the blade, "Well, there are yellow ones. But those are rare, and the only other alternative I know of. Hmm, we'll have to check the books and see if they say anything about this. My guess, and maybe this is just me being hopeful, but if you mix blue and red…"

"You get purple." Menyoo says in awe. "well now that we can read Sith, we'll have a lot of reading to catch up on."

Mill switches the blade off, "That we will."

Their ship comes bumbling from the direction of the decrepit castle, several hundreds of meters in the air. Menyoo spots it first, but doesn't say anything, shading his eyes so he can watch the approach of the small, black dot that is their ship. Mill turns, but doesn't see what Menyoo is looking up at until he eventually hears it first, groaning through the air as it struggles to land without falling apart.

Menyoo begins waving his arms into the air, but Mill slaps the back of his hand against Menyoo's chest and says astutely, "Before we board, I wanted to say one other thing. You should have killed me. I am glad you didn't, and appreciate that you trust me, but I gave an order. You said it yourself, I was convulsing, then my actions sent D.G. into a rampage. It should have never gone that far."

Menyoo looks Mill in the eyes and says in an assertive tone, "How could I? You put so much trust in me, how could I not give you the same benefit?" Menyoo then proceeds to smile and pat Mill on the shoulder before walking off in the direction of the ship, shouting into the air with glee and waving his hands in the air toward TC in his small semi-spherical cockpit. Mill lavishes a smile before turning and following in Menyoo's stead, gesticulating extravagantly alongside Menyoo to get TC's attention. TC-26 had already spotted them—long before they spotted him—and begins lowering the ship close to their position. The ship stops a meter off the ground to a shaky hover, allowing for Mill and Menyoo to jump aboard once TC gets the door open.

Once they are on board and stable, TC-26 asks, "Is there trouble?"

Mill answers, "No, there was but we're fine now. Although I would be a bit more comfortable if you pulled away from this spot. Then we can figure out our next move."

Menyoo shouts while pointing a finger at the ceiling, "I second that!" TC does as he is asked, cruising the ship several kilometers away before stopping again. In that time, Mill and Menyoo put their stuff away and discuss their next step.

Menyoo asks while changing out of his sweaty robes, "What do you think we should do? D.G. wants us to fight for honor and love. Not very specific instructions. I really hate his riddles."

Mill laughs aloud to himself before answering, "I don't think that one was a riddle. I think he is just giving us a lot of room to work with. The important thing is we find a place to fight, preferably far away so we can study on the way. Then when we get there, we work on using our emotions to our advantage in the fight. Like the Sith did and the Jedi disparage, but we do it better, fighting for, as you put it, love and honor."

"Maybe Sbeit should have stuck around, he knows how to pick a fight. Do you have a place in mind?"

"Yeah, I think I do. There was something my master had always wanted to do, but the Jedi wouldn't let him. While he was growing up, his family were in a bad situation, and it's unlikely they got themselves out of it. His dream was to return one day and save them. The council never allowed it, nor did they do anything on their own for the oppressed people. He died before he could. But we can." A tear runs down the cheek opposite of Menyoo, as Mill thinks to himself: _Master,_ _I hope I make you proud._


	31. Chapter 31

Although Jaguada and Axxila—the homeworld of Mill's former Master—are only about 5000 parsecs away from one another, the trip will be a minimum three days travel; due in part to the troublesome route out of the stygian caldera, and a lack of space lanes between their current position and the upper-central regions of the galaxy. It takes a couple of hours for the pair to calm down after escaping D.G.'s tomb, having almost been buried alive under a sea of sand. The latent after effects of D.G. taking partial control of both their bodies also did its part to wear the duo out.

For Mill, the hardest part of their short stay on Jaguada was his emotionally-exhausting communion with the kyber crystal; despite that, even after having experienced the crystal's pain through the force-vision, he left feeling invigorated. The mutual understanding he now shares with the force shard is enough to revitalize his spirit and renew his faith in the mission. He feels he made a trustworthy companion in the process: the vessel for which he keeps strapped to his belt.

After those first few hours of respite, Menyoo asks Mill for more details about their next stop. Mill elaborates on his earlier explanation, telling Menyoo about his former Master Corovack, his difficult upbringing, and his promise to free his mother and sisters. On Axxila, and many other republic-friendly planets, blood tests are required of newborns to determine whether the child is force sensitive. If a child is force-sensitive, they are taken from their family and raised at a Jedi temple to eventually become part of the order. Corovack tested positive as a baby, but his father died shortly before his birth, so his mother hid him from the Jedi sent to claim him; he was the first boy of three sisters—a valuable asset to a family on Axxila.

The effects of his father's death were economically devastating to Corovack's family. Poor communities on Axxila are not afforded safety nets and learn quickly they must be willing to do anything to get by. For some families this means grueling factory work, for others it means thievery, hustling, and occasionally squatting with other abject civilians.

Corovack's mother resigned herself to sex work to keep her family alive and fed. She worked for an organization called the _Allegro front, _and her employment became slavery—working indefinitely by threat of death if she ever tries leaving. When his older sisters became of age, they too were forced into the same life alongside their mother. Corovack never learned of what happened to the youngest of his three sisters (he had been discovered and taken to the order at the age of six,) but he held little hope that she managed to escape the same fate. He was his family's only hope for emancipation, but he, and later Mill, were restricted from convening in personal affairs. This is no longer the case.

Menyoo listens intently, while also thinking about the similarities between Corovack and himself. Menyoo was also brought into the order at a later age than normal; and from Mill's personal account, he too was a late arrival. Instances of jedi joining past infancy are rare. For him, Mill, and Mill's master to have all joined late is exceptionally odd. Menyoo wonders to himself if this difference does not account for the opposing perspectives of them and Sbeit.

He considers asking Mill about Sbeit's background, but decides against it; it is not his business if it doesn't relate to the mission. He also should not fixate on him. There is just something about the short time all three of them spent together that stands out to Menyoo. He can't help but compare and contrast. Now that he knows about Corovack, the extra information could be a clue as to how Mill is different from the rest of the order, and where Menyoo stands amongst Jedi like Mill, and Jedi like Sbeit.

Menyoo is lost in his thoughts by the end of Mill's explanation, "any comments or questions Menyoo? I know this doesn't directly relate to you. It doesn't to me either really. His family, or the organization they work for, may not even exist anymore. But it's worth a try. We shouldn't feel too bad cutting through any of these guys if we do find them. They are bad people, and they'll make good targets to try out D.G.'s advice with." Menyoo maintains eye contact the entire time, but is still too distracted to answer Mill properly when he is done. Mill recognizes his preoccupation and concludes by asking, "Is that okay? I don't want to push you to do anything you aren't comfortable doing. I know I'm asking a lot of you."

Mill's concern breaks Menyoo out of his reticent puzzlement, "Oh, no no no. I'm sorry, I'm just thinking about your former Master. He sounds like… a really good guy. I would have liked to meet him."

Mill affixes a warm smile from cheek to cheek and answers affectionately, "He would have liked you."

Menyoo at this point is unsure how or where to take the conversation, feeling out of place with the increasingly personal and sensitive chatter that has emerged since him and Mill have accepted their roles more complacently. Menyoo is used to harsh and discerning Jedi—another distinction that sets Mill apart from others. As he thinks about Mill, he recalls something D.G. had said in the cave, and steers the conversation back to Mill, "Hey, D.G. said you have killed out of anger and hate before. Was he referring to the assassin? Or something that happened before we met? I meant to ask you once we left but then, you know, we got distracted."

Mill's entire mood changes: his eyes sink toward the ground, and his shoulders follow, lowering at the pace of his energy levels. His nervous fidgeting returns as he responds with a trepid quaver, "I, neither. It was while we were on Moltok. When you were meeting with the scientist, I was at the waterfall, as you know, but I was not alone." Mill tells Menyoo about the incident with the Makurth and includes every detail: the horrid feeling of drowning, the cries of the Makurth before he was killed, and the squirming children who ran unprotected into the forest. Mill keeps his eyeline below Menyoo's chin for the entire length of the story. He lifts his gaze up to inspect Menyoo's present state, expecting anger or disgust. He is instead met with an emotional wall; Menyoo looks neither sympathetic nor upset, just pensive.

After a couple moments pass in silence, Menyoo responds with judicious apathy, "you should have told me. I felt alone when I killed the man on Xagobah. It would have helped to hear you tell me I wasn't. That you had done something similar, and not long ago. It helps even now, and I've already moved on from it. Or, at least I think I have. But you should have told me."

Mill begins to respond, starting with an apologetic crack in his voice, "I'm s—"

—"I'm not mad Mill. I knew something was weird when we left Moltok. You were tense. I thought it was whatever you experienced in the nexus, but now I know you were in mourning. And I do believe that's the only thing you were keeping from me. It was after all the only time I've sensed something abnormal from you. Well, then and also when D.G. took over your body. Oh, and when the assassin was after you. We've had quite the journey, haven't we?" Menyoo pauses to chuckle, lightening the mood before continuing, "I forgive you. Like you said, we're partners. And now we are going to save people who are in need, and become stronger and wiser in the process. Both of those things I would be left out of if not for you. If you feel bad, just remember that feeling the next time you consider lying to me. If you do that, all is forgiven."

Mill's mouth opened at some point toward the middle of Menyoo's response, and stayed open for a few seconds past. Impressed, Mill nods eagerly and says with enthusiasm, "You really have grown considerably since we have started. I don't think I could have said it better if our roles were reversed. Thank you Menyoo."

The conversation returns to the topic of the mission. Mill commends Menyoo on his force push during their escape from D.G.'s tomb, and assures Menyoo it is a good start to reclaiming his place within the force—a goal Menyoo has begun to care about considerably more since the four of them first set off for Xagobah together. Menyoo asks in turn what Mill thinks is the reason D.G. failed to balance the light and dark side, and further why D.G. thinks Mill has a better chance than he did. Mill's only guess is that it might be easier to implement dark side teachings into a light-side user's belief system, than it is in the reverse. The two of them discuss the topic, providing theories back and forth. After a few turns hypothesizing, Menyoo remembers what D.G. did for them—before attempting to kill them—and suggests eagerly, "Why don't we find out! We can read Sith now remember!?"

Menyoo scampers over to Mill's bag, but Mill tries quelling his enthusiasm by saying to Menyoo as he turns his back away from him, "Don't get your hopes up too high! That may have only worked in the cave."

Menyoo paws through the first book he picks up. Hunched over Mill's bag, Menyoo turns his head at a slight angle toward Mill, causing a couple of his neck tendrils to drape over Mill's book, "I can read every word."

Mill stares steely at Menyoo, then asks with crude astonishment, "Seriously?" He rushes over to Menyoo's side, hurdling over the bag Sbeit left sitting between the bunks. He leans over Menyoo's shoulder and reads over the first few lines of the book: _The methods recorded in this manual are not intended for, nor recommended to, any young practitioners of the dark side of the force. An instructor should be well-versed in these arts, and use this manual only as a referential guide, or if fate so insists, as a historical relic of the past containing secrets of tremendous import. _Mill looks to Menyoo, whose expression reads a level of excitement matching his own. Mill pats Menyoo's back and says, "We had best get started."

Mill pulls out the other two previously indecipherable books and begins reading through the first title: _Sith Ruminations_. Menyoo continues reading through the book in his hands:_ Sith Techniques: From Master to Apprentice_—the same book that contained the instructions for bleeding a lightsaber. For the first hour of them reading separate, Mill only makes it three pages into his book on account of Menyoo constantly calling him over to read through the details of one atrocious method or another. Menyoo closes his book after their fourth hour of reading; he is convinced the book contains no relevant information, only gruesome advice and appalling methods for any form of torture, brutality, or sadism the imagination could conjure, "No wonder the author put an advisory note on the first page. Nobody should ever read this, much less do anything it says. This is terrible. No wonder why the Jedi hate the Sith so much. Anything good in yours?"

"So far, I have yet to understand a single thing the author has written."

Menyoo tilts his head with confusion, "but you can_ read_ the words, right?

Mill answers through a few steady turns of his head to convey his frustration, "Yes, I can read the words, but I still don't have access to his vocabulary. Or, how he uses it more like. And the material is so dense. I need other writings from the author, and a lot of time. I have read through some dull Jedi writings before, but nothing so… ugh, I don't know Menyoo. If you want a shot at it, by all means. Otherwise, I think this is a project for another day. Another month probably."

Menyoo snickers, "too much ruminating huh? Well I'll pass. Besides, I think the important one is the one neither of us have yet to look at." They both turn to face the copy of_ From the Light Births the Dark. _"I would bet that book has the answers we are looking for."

For the next sixteen hours, save an hour long nap a couple hours in, the Jedi read through the final Sith book of their collection. The book does exactly what Menyoo had predicted, and Mill was hoping for: answer many of the questions still looming regarding the relationship between the light and dark side. After a sluggish introduction, and several chapters discussing ideological differences between the light and dark (a subject they read about at length in D.G.'s second manuscript,) the center of the book, about a hundred pages in, confirms for Mill a theory he had discussed with Rancisis before leaving Coruscant the last time, regarding how the Sith convert Jedi to the dark side:

_The conversion of a Jedi is not an act of dark beguilement, and no Sith should treat it as such. The turning of a Jedi is an act of nature, and as we belong to nature, so must our decisions. The Jedi act unnaturally by denying their own nature—that of sensuous connection with the predicate of cause and effect, the gears moved by the laws of nature itself. They undo their own teaching by withholding from this connection, and act against the very nature that is their own. Their self-inflected asceticism heightens their susceptibility to the dominant sensations of nature. The role of the Sith is not to force nature's will, but present it to a Jedi; then one may cultivate this will, nurture its growth, and direct the resulting excess locked away by their ignorant teachings. They found their own undoing by forcing an unnatural spirit on their own kind, and from this spirit, the rot imbedded within their organization will consume the Jedi from the inside out. To enable the escape of nature's will, free it from their self-oppressing grip: this is the method for turning a Jedi._

Mill rereads the passage aloud, having acknowledged it as a key section in the text. Menyoo mutters a few of the words under his breath, before saying with varying confidence, "So, it is about emotion. We were, well, you were right. It's the fact that we never learn to control our emotions that pushes us to the dark side. Or, it makes us susceptible to it. And if the Sith are in hiding, this may have been happening for the last thousand years and we wouldn't know. That's scary to think about."

Mill huffs and says with a bewildered grin, "This does resonate closely with what I have said in the past, but this is still quite new and distinct. I mean read it. It instructs the Sith to do nothing to turn the Jedi. Let our own teachings lead us astray. They just have to make us emotional, and we fall into their hands just as easily."

Menyoo chimes in, "Yeah, then we do the horrible things that I was reading about earlier. What a big change."

Mill stares down at the book for a few moments before continuing off of his earlier statement, "This is still from a Sith writer. We cannot completely trust it, but it does make sense. A lot of it does. Why D.G. went insane included. Why we are more capable of balancing the force. It's because he is trying to control emotions that he has let run rampant his entire life. He fed off them for power. It grew to fit his needs, but he became dependent on it, like an addiction. The Sith aren't any better, but they are right, this could destroy the Jedi order from the inside out, just as it says, if it hasn't already. And maybe has before."

Mill's earlier confusion is passed onto Menyoo, who asks with his eyes half-closed, "Uhh, Mill what do you mean by that last part? You think it has happened before? The Sith destroying the Jedi?"

Mill replies with clipped assertions, "Nothing, I'm not sure yet myself. We have been up far too long. I need to sleep on this. If you don't mind, we can finish reading this tomorrow."

Menyoo artfully makes a sound to express a kind of satisfied exhaustion before slipping a page holder into the book and retiring to his bunk. Mill had already retreated to his after suggesting they rest, and within minutes the pair are fast asleep. They nearly sleep through the entirety of the next day. Menyoo wakes up first. When he comes to, TC, who is stuck into the wall on the opposite end of the ship, notices, "Good day sleepy!" TC drops to the floor of the ship and waddles over to the front of Menyoo's bunk, "We will be at Axxila in about six to eight hours! The time however is circumstantial. If I can find the entrance to the lower lane leading into the D'Astan sector—"

—"Thank you droid, you had best look for that lane then. Carry on." Mill says with unintentional attitude while groaning from his bunk. TC-26 does a little curtsy-squat, then climbs up into the cockpit to continue navigation. Mill lowers his head back into his pillow.

Menyoo turns his head sideways to face Mill's bunk, "That was kind of rude. I know he's a droid, but he was letting us know our arrival time. Which if you did not hear, will be about six to eight hours. He got us there in record time."

Mill lifts his head back up out of the head-shaped socket he formed in his pillow overnight, and says to Menyoo with more clarity than before, "six to eight hours? Oh, that is no good at all. We must have been out for some time. We still have quite a bit of that book to go."

The jedi get up and prepare for another long day. Starting with their hygiene, then some food, they chat as they get ready for their day of studies. As they talk, Mill and Menyoo get lost in conversation, slowing down on their routine chores to focus on the subject at hand. Their work ethic continues to dwindle until an hour later they find themselves sitting cross-legged on the ground facing one another. Mill finds a beat up set of cards in Sbeit's bag—a set Sbeit uses for missions that require impromptu gambling—and lays out the cards in the space between the two of them, "So how about it, a couple rounds of Go Fish?"

"Go what?"

"You're making a joke, right?" Menyoo's face crinkles further with confusion. Mill exclaims, "You've never heard of Go Fish!? Wow, the Jedi did mess us up. I used to play this with my dad all the time when I was a kid. But this game is universal. Intergalactic. I'm telling you, everybody has played this before, no matter where they're from. It's really simple…" The rest of the day continues on in a similar tone. The two Jedi play games and share stories from their past; Mill tells Menyoo about some old adventures from his Jedi Knight days, and Menyoo shares some fresh stories from being a Padawan. The duo waste away the next seven hours, until they hear an all too familiar call, "We are here!"


	32. Chapter 32

TC finds an available landing pad in the massive industrial sector of the planet. Since Mill does not know where on the planet the Allegro front is active, they only have a single clue to work off of: Corovack's father was a hfredium miner. Assuming he did not travel far to work (a poor family on Axxila cannot afford transportation,) they probably lived near the industrial sector, and the family is likely to have remained close to where they were after his passing.

The search for the organization may take several days. Axxila is an ecumenopolis like Coruscant—a planet covered by a single city. The industrial sector alone is several times larger than a normal city on other planets; and also like coruscant, the city consists of many layers stacked over one another. How Axxila differs from Coruscant is its layout: on Coruscant, the impoverished, criminal, and otherwise disadvantaged populations are more abundant deep into the city; whereas on Axilla, it is the opposite: the rich, urban elite hide away near the core of the planet, while everybody else lives closer to the uppermost layer, proliferating in crime and poverty the higher the level.

The system is unique to Axilla for three reasons: for one, the aristocrats own tunnels that lead to a massive section of the planet reserved for emergency evacuation should the need arrive; two, in the case of rebellion or an attack from other systems, the upper and poorer layers serve as cannon fodder to protect the wealthy near the core; and lastly, the pollution in the upper regions of the city is far worse. The reason the pollution is worse in the upper regions is two-fold: the height of the city; and a system of vents spread throughout the planet's lower regions. These vents take the industrial pollution from large scale mining and manufacturing operations and pump it through the majority of Axxila's buildings, which tower high into the planet's troposphere (a series of protests and armed revolts led to a compromise that sanctioned buildings to be redesigned to use the diverted gas from the lower layers as free heating for tenants living in buildings equipped with these vents—for the price of clean air.)

TC-26 uses a republic call sign to reserve an independent platform free of charge—a service many planets offer to traveling Jedi in order to keep favor with the republic. Mill and Menyoo pack their bags full of supplies, accepting that they may be gone for an entire day or longer, and that there is no guarantee the credit chit will work. The landing pad is half a kilometer deep into the city, so Mill and Menyoo make a plan to take an elevator, exclusive to their landing zone, up to the worse-off regions of the city: the best chance of finding information regarding a criminal organization will be found up there.

As Mill and Menyoo begin their departure from the ship, TC crawls down from his small bubble to see the Jedi off, "Good luck Master Kandor, Master Keel! I will be here waiting. Stay safe!"

Mill, with his back turned away from TC, lazily waves his hand over his shoulder as he steps off the ship. Menyoo drops down beside him and scowls at Mill, to which Mill lets out an irked sigh and turns back to TC, "Thank you droid, we will be back soon." Mill turns to face their elevator once more, but before stepping forward, follows his valediction with, "And please, call me Mill."

Menyoo flashes Mill a smile as he joins by his side. Menyoo keeps pace with Mill while walking backwards, waving and hollering his farewell to TC-26. TC shouts back, "Bye! Good luck Master Keel! Good luck Mill!"

Mill says under his breath, "I'm going to regret that," as he steps up to the elevator, setting off the motion sensor that calls it for them.

Menyoo smirks from behind Mill and says, "it could be worse. He could be calling you Millard."

Mill's head twists furiously to face Menyoo, "I thought you had forgotten about that!"

Menyoo laughs and continues to pick on Mill while they await the elevator—and for the duration of the ride up. They spend the afternoon searching for places that either look to be criminal fronts, or sell information. Their search parameters turn out to be too wide, after concluding within a minute of walking that every building in the city looks to be a criminal front. The buildings line the sides of every street with no breaks between them, except for where streets meet and intersections form. The individual buildings are distinguished by their differing color palettes, and a narrow door outside each unit; but the shape and structures are all the same. They are primarily residential, starting from the second floor, up to where the structure is fitted into the next layer of the city above.

The bottom row of each building complex is made up of businesses, whether they be a corner garage, shabby utility store, or a bar—there are lots of bars. The businesses stand apart from the domestic spaces above them due to a profusion of chrome plating outside each façade—probably to protect against the rust that dominates the upper spaces; but to no avail, for the ensemble of pocked enterprises rust from the inside out. They stop in a few shops, watering holes, and question a handful of shady people along the way.

The only semblance of recognition the name _Allegro front_ receives is from a tavern owner who replies, "that would be a question for my dad. Too bad for you he is dead. Not for me though…" He then proceeded to tell them his entire life story before Mill eventually cut him off and thanked him for his time.

The day wore on with no reward. No closer to an answer, Mill decides they should try their luck on a lower level of the city. As they work their way toward a transit building—buildings used for moving from one floor to another—Menyoo's stomach grumbles. "Hungry?"

Menyoo answers, "No, I'm okay. We haven't learned anything yet, and it looks like it'll be dark soon. It would be best to wait. If I get too hungry, I'll take some food out. No need to stop."

Mill extends a synthetic frown to Menyoo as he speaks. When he is done, Mill swings his backpack down to the ground and opens the side compartment. He pulls out three silver credit chips from the pocket and holds them closed in his conjoined palms. He reveals a sliver of the contents to Menyoo, ensuring that he is the only one who can see the credits. Menyoo's large eyes roll down toward them, then widen with excitement, "I thought we didn't have any money! Is it a good idea to use it?"

Mill flashes a warning with widening eyes before pressing the chips back together and hiding them in his tunic. He then answers Menyoo, "we don't have much, and I'm not proud of this, but I took it from Sbeit's bag. He always stows a bit away before any mission. I'll pay him back when we see him next, but for now I still owe you that meal from Vakeyya. On, well Sbeit, it's on him. So pick a place as we walk. We'll save the supplies for our next meal, seeing as we may be here a while."

The pair climb down the steep station steps into the next lower level to explore. They had barely stepped out of the station before Menyoo finds the place he wants to eat, pointing to the first floor of an apartment building—a chrome-fitted hole in the wall with a small awning above it. Mill comments, "you're just picking with your stomach. But if you aren't picky, it will do."

They walk to the paltry eatery and order their meals. Menyoo orders an outer rim specialty (according to the cook,) made from a meat neither of them had heard of; for Mill, a Coruscant staple—grilled nerf burgers with greens. They eat and complain about their lack of results. At first it feels purely therapeutic, but by the end of the meal Menyoo feels like he is sitting down and complaining with a friend, like people do in his holovids. The experience becomes enjoyable despite the terrible food—a fact Menyoo does not want to admit to after Mill made fun of him for picking the first place he saw. Despite him enjoying himself, Menyoo continues to complain with Mill because he does not want to ruin the experience.

They finish eating, then pay at the counter where the cook greedily takes all three chits before declaring a price. Mill shrugs, then leads the pair out of the diner back into the city. They cross through a maze of intersecting streets while keeping an eye out for potentially knowledgeable degenerates or secret hideouts. The two are met with nothing but loose ends in this part of town, and find themselves startled by the apparent innocence and decency of this tiny portion of the city. Mill illates from the dwindling population and encroaching night that staying on this floor will bring them no closer to finding the Allegro front. They shift their search for clues to a search for a way farther up into the city. The higher they can get before nightfall, the higher the likelihood they will find criminals that could point them—against their will if need be—in the right direction.

Dark approaches fast. They make it up two layers higher before getting lost in their present layer. Unable to find another transit building, or any other means of moving vertically through the city, they consider calling TC to help navigate them through the streets, but decide instead to wander a little longer before asking for TC's help; knowing him, he will panic, stage an unnecessary rescue, search through every available street he can access, in a ship too large for intercity travel, get into a chase with local law enforcement, and lower the last of their fuel supply in the process. Mill disregards the idea outright.

This floor is a bit different than the others. Instead of chrome-covered store fronts, the buildings are made of aged, dark metallic alloys, and decorated with neon signs and strands of similarly bright lights. Down at the far end of the street they see a hump in the dark, concealed by the shadows of drooping buildings. It is that perfect time of night when it is just dark enough to impair vision at long distances, but still too light to justify street or porch lights to assist. As they approach the hump, the space between the last building of the row, and the dark object, widens. They see through the small gap a procession of flying cars whizzing by one another in the open air. "It must be a bridge," Mill remarks, as he quickens his pace to reach the obscure anomaly ahead.

Mill and Menyoo walk up to the foot of the structure and peer across to the other side, confirming it to be a bridge. Juxtaposing the design of the city blocks it connects, the bridge features a sleek, futuristic look amidst the old-style brick and mortar buildings suffering from age and neglect on either end. The bridge features wide rectangular slabs of grey metallic blocks, welded together like the carapace of a long robotic millipede, and spans a distance of ten meters with a slight upward bend at its center.

Mill reluctantly steps onto the bridge and peers over the edge nearest to him. Before stepping on in tow, Menyoo asks, "do you think it leads to a different part of town? It looks the same on the both ends."

"It's worth a shot," Mill replies. He then takes another couple steps forward. He makes it a quarter of the way across before spotting a still figure on the other side. The waning light betrays any attempt by Mill to analyze the person ahead. Mill halts his approach, and straightens his arm out behind him to cease Menyoo's movement as well. He leans forward and squints his eyes ahead. He notices a few key features: a long hood is draped over the head, with fabric stretching high above where a human head would end; narrow shoulders, and a slim frame to match, are molded into a tightly bound robe that opens diagonally across the chest; neat and clean brown cloth, fastidiously tied and hung with vain detail; and a pleasing cascade of white, accent coloring peeks out prestigiously below a sash along the belt, mitigating the severe austerity of traditional Jedi garb.

Before Mill could warn Menyoo, an airspeeder rushes by. Coming within centimeters of Mill's face, it nearly slams into his side—a strike that would kill him on impact. Mill throws his body in reverse, rolling backward onto his feet as far back as the embankment of the bridge. "Whoa!" Menyoo yells as he rushes back to the foot of the bridge to help Mill. Once Menyoo ensures that Mill is okay, his panic turns to anger as he turns back toward the bridge, "who designed this death trap!? Speeders run back and forth across the lanes, and they decided to build the bridge right in between without so much as a sign or warning."

Mill treads forwards and grabs Menyoo by the arm. He softly says, "Menyoo."

Menyoo turns to address Mill, "It's a good thing you're alright! We'll have to wait for a good time to cross. Stupid city planners." Menyoo trudges angrily up the first few steps of the bridge. Mill repeats Menyoo's name while staring ahead at the trough of the bridge. This time, a severe undertone subdues Menyoo's indignant march. "What-oh." Menyoo looks up from the ground and spots the man ahead capturing Mill's attention.

A speeder rushing down the corridor illuminates the visage of the robed figure with its headlights, revealing a green, leathery snout bulging out from the front of the hood. Its face points downward, parallel with its lengthy arms extending down by its waist, and cupping one hand with the other—like an old depiction of a holy figure from some antiquated mythology. Menyoo motions to continue his march forward, but is stopped by a firm grip on his shoulder. Menyoo looks at Mill first, his mouth ajar with confusion. He then turns back to the figure. He asks with a sceptic inflection, "Sbeit?"

Sbeit takes a dramatic step forward and lifts the hood over his protrusive head crest, revealing his face, accompanied by tempestuous eyes and an uncharacteristically guilt-ridden expression. He says with a harrowing tone in his voice, "Hello Menyoo, I was hoping I would find Mill alone."


	33. Chapter 33

Mill stares ahead at his former padawan, and Sbeit stares back; their eyes remain interlocked as they scour one another for telling body language or expression. Flashes of color rush by Sbeit as traffic picks up, passing above and below the bridge where he makes his stand. Mill's rigid posture remains immutable as he quips, "I shouldn't expect that seeing you here means you are joining the team again, should I?"

Menyoo is the only one of the three who cannot maintain his composure. He takes an apprehensive step back and says through a nearly inaudible utterance, "How did you…"

Mill answers without turning away from Sbeit, maintaining the tensive glare shared between the two Jedi, "He tracked us. The bag he left, it wasn't forgotten. I should have known he would have a contingency plan."

Sbeit's hardened expression softens before he answers Mill's accusation, but he holds firm to his authoritative tone, "No, it was not like that. Yes, I did track you using the bag, but I did not leave it behind for that purpose. Mill you know why I am here."

Mill answers immediately after Sbeit pauses, replacing his rigid attitude with a nonchalant confidence, "Yes, well it was nice seeing you again Sbeit. I'm sorry we can't stop to chat, but Menyoo and I have somewhere to be. So, we'll be crossing the bridge now. Feel free to follow, or go home. It's your choice." Mill begins making his way across the bridge again, walking with small, slow steps for effect—and because Menyoo is still a distance behind watching the uncomfortable exchange with trepidation.

Sbeit answers with increased grit, indicated by his commanding posture and deterrent tone, "You know I cannot let you do that. An investigation is taking place and your presence is required. I was selected to retrieve you. That is why I am here, and why you are needed. Mill, please don't make this difficult."

Mill takes another defiant step forward as he responds, "I won't, I will make this very simple. Move out of our way. Or, attempt to retrieve us, as you so delicately put it."

Menyoo involves himself, afraid of what he foresees should their banter continue—especially now that their interests are opposed. He rushes forward to the side of Mill and puts his arm out over his chest, blocking his progress. He places his other hand in Sbeit's general direction and waves it pleadingly to mollify his former kinsmen. Sbeit too attempts to dull the intensifying confrontation, "Mill, I don't wish to fight you." Menyoo slackens the arm extended across Mill and sighs in relief, until Sbeit follows his comment with, "but I will if I have to."

Menyoo whirls his head back around at Sbeit and delivers a sardonic glare, accompanied by him shouting, "but you don't have to!"

Mill gently pushes Menyoo's arm out of his way and says in a serious tone—more serious than Menyoo thought possible of Mill, "It's a matter of conflicting interests. He has already made up his mind, and there is nothing we can do about it." Mill continues to stare ahead at Sbeit, and Sbeit continues to reciprocate.

Menyoo takes another step backwards, farther out onto the bridge with his back still facing Sbeit. He then turns to his side to analyze the feuding Jedi, swinging his head from one to the other, tracing the lines of site exchanged between the two. "You guys cannot be serious."

Mill mutters, "it's the cycle," passively to Menyoo, then strides forward shamelessly, unperturbed by the airspeeders darting by in either direction. Sbeit shifts his shoulders back and places his left hand at his side, near the buckle for his lightsaber.

"The what?" Menyoo asks himself under his breath. He then swiftly shifts his weight to his left to careen out of the way of a marauding speeder flying low enough over the bridge to have knocked him clean off. He picks himself back up and watches silently as the two come face to face; standing only a meter apart, both equally determined to undermine the other.

They continue their stare up close when Sbeit makes a final attempt at diplomacy—the tactic Mill recognizes as Sbeit's last ditch effort before initiating an attack: "report to Coruscant. I can guarantee you a proper and fair trial. Vux will be left out of it. And the investigation is two-fold. This may be our chance to bring him down together!"

Mill shakes his head before responding, "I am done with council affairs. I am leaving the rest to the force."

Sbeit displays a final look of reproach as he exhales out of his nostril and drops his head toward the ground. In a rapid succession, Sbeit picks his head back up— exhibiting a warrior's countenance—unclips the lightsaber from his belt, and draws forth a blue blade of light from its hilt. Mill anticipated his movement, but allows Sbeit to make his move first before responding; Mill's lightsaber ignites, then runs diagonally across his chest, meeting Sbeit's blade a mere millisecond after Sbeit draws.

They resume their mutual stare as they press against one another. This lasts a couple of seconds before Sbeit withdraws his attack. He lifts his blade into the air, carrying Mill's with it, then retreats a step before Mill would have time to bring his back down. Sbeit then shifts his stance into a low guard by raising his shoulders and lowering the tip of his saber toward the bridge. Mill remains planted in his position and follows Sbeit with his eyes as he paces back and forth in front of him. Sbeit says as a show of confidence, "You have always been fast, even out of practice as you are."

Mill does not answer, instead tracing the sway of Sbeit's blade as he steps left to right, then back again in a continuous pattern. Sbeit continues, "It's a shame how much you have changed. You used to be a defender of peace. A Jedi knight people told stories about. I was excited when I was first assigned to you, but I got to you too late."

Mill answers while remaining vigilant for a surprise swing—distraction is another popular tool of Sbeit's, which Mill has seen to be very effective, "If it is talking you wish to do, we can put down our weapons and continue this another time. Otherwise, please, let's get this over with."

Sbeit snarls with anger and swings heavily down on Mill, putting his back into the strike in an attempt to disrupt Mill's balance. Mill blocks with a horizontal guard, then lifting his hilt into the air, transitions the block into a stab by lowering his right knee and forcing the saber backwards at Sbeit's gut; aware of Sbeit's aptitude for adapting in combat, he knew Sbeit would predict his stab, intending only to force him back.

Sbeit surprises even Mill. He instead sidesteps the stab with a quick tap to misdirect Mill's blade, then redoubles his efforts and slams the saber down onto Mill's to disarm him. Mill, however, moves too fast for Sbeit. He swings the lightsaber in a downward arc toward Sbeit's legs, then pulls it back up toward his chest at the vertex. Sbeit front flips over the swing, then jumps back a meter to put distance between them so he can ground his focus. Mill says to Sbeit as he lands, "we know each other too well. This could go on for a while."

Menyoo watches in awe as the two exchange blows back and forth. He can tell neither one is aiming to harm the other, but the fight still appears to be deadly. It amazes him how well they predict one another's movements. Menyoo was under the impression they pay very little attention to each other, but the consistent countering and shrewd shutdowns say otherwise. He thinks about what Mill said before he faced Sbeit: _It's the cycle_. The cycle of what? Watching Sbeit fight, this is clearly cathartic for him. Maybe that is what Mill means? Is this Mill's attempt at recruiting Sbeit for the mission? Whatever is happening, it is clear to Menyoo it has been a long time in the making. Menyoo holds his saber close to his side in case things get too aggressive. For now, it seems to be a much-needed exchange of words hidden by a false pretense for council business, which is a far safer version than what Menyoo was afraid it would amount to.

The jedi continue to talk through their duel; Mill switches to purely defensive techniques, while Sbeit slows and shallows his strikes to compensate for Mill's lack of aggression. Sbeit says to Mill, "You have been heading down a dark path for some time. I wanted to believe you had good intentions, but now you've begun to corrupt a rookie jedi to assist you in your traitorous and destructive quest. It must end. You do not need to travel the galaxy and meddle in dark, unknown energies to study the force! It is all around us!"

Mill continues to block each of Sbeit's strikes. A standard pattern emerges: side swipe, low to high slash, reverse swipe, overhead swing. Mill deflects Sbeit easily while maintaining his defensive stance and posture; Sbeit, on the other hand, is becoming increasingly fatigued as the fight wears on. Mill answers Sbeit's criticism with a sly smile curling at his lip, "it is because you are closed minded that you do not see the value in tapping into these energies. Just like those dark forces you speak of, you use the force as a tool, an object, with no interest in understanding it for what it is. I trained you to be a knight like me because that was all I knew. Besides, you had a knack for it. So, I ask you now, show me the results of your training. You can do much better than a simple four step variation. It's like old times, sparring with you just after you turned thirteen. You can do better than this!" He follows his last statement with a hearty spurt of laughter.

Mill's transition to a lax attitude upsets Sbeit even further, compelling him to fight with more intensity. Sbeit swings heavily at Mill's lightsaber, surprising him and throwing him off balance. He then moves in for a quick swipe at his left rib. Mill quickly parries the assault, then backs up immediately in recognition of his mistake. Sbeit wastes no time advancing on Mill, fighting with increased ferocity and a less recognizable pattern, keeping Mill defensive out of mere necessity. Sbeit hammers at his defensive posture, causing Mill to back up to the edge of the bridge.

Sbeit slams his blade into Mill's and presses down. Mill's back curves over the precipice; he digs his heels into the raised metal strip to hold himself in place. The blinding, blue sparks flaking away from the crossed blades hide the face of Mill's former padawan, but his anger materializes through the increasing strength of his resistance. Menyoo grips his lightsaber tight in anticipation for a timely intervention; but a renegade speeder gets there first, foraying into their duel. Mill shoves Sbeit to the side and jumps in the opposite direction seconds before it cuts directly down the center of where the two Jedi were standing.

"We are fighting! You have the nerve to save me!" Sbeit howls at Mill. He then rushes at him in a rage, eager to reignite their duel. He begins with a jab at Mill's chest before throwing a flurry of cross slashes and swings.

Mill yells back through the fierce barrage, "You need to calm down! You are letting your emotions getting the best of you! It is unbecoming of a Jedi!"

Sbeit explodes at the gall of his former master. He yells at Mill with petulant intolerance, "how dare you lecture me when it is you who are in danger!" He draws his lightsaber back and slams his shoulder into Mill, knocking him down to one knee. Mill holds his lightsaber over his head to block Sbeit's follow-up attack. Sbeit imbues the force into his next three swings, hammering at Mill's lightsaber.

Before his first swing, Sbeit yells, "What do you want from me!? I am too much of a Jedi? And now, I'm not enough!?" The force of his attack lowers Mill to the ground. Before his second strike, "I am too rebellious!? And now, not rebellious enough!?" He puts his full weight behind his second swing; the force energy in the strike causes pain to flare up Mill's spine. Before his final strike, he yells with unrestrained passion "I'm just a disappointment, and I always have been!" Sbeit slams his blade down against Mill's lightsaber. a shockwave passes through Mill's body. His head smacks the bridge underneath.

The speeders passing over him fade in and out of focus as they rush by. The radiant blue glow of his lightsaber reflects off Sbeit's coarse, green skin, blurring into a single breathing color. Mill strains his eyes to bring them to focus, and is met with the crystal-clear image of Sbeit's pain-ridden eyes, stained with a melancholic patina hidden from Mill by years of his own neglect. The lights of passing airspeeders reflect in Sbeit's eyes: a distant memory surfaces, drawing a tear from Mill. Sbeit breathes heavily over Mill as he stares down at his former Master. Pent-up catharsis exaggerates the bulging veins trapped under his thick, opaque skin.

Mill puts his hands behind him and pushes himself up to his feet, ignoring the pain pulsating through his entire body. A sense of clarity confides in him the confidence to reason one last time with Sbeit, "You're right, for years I have felt disappointed by you, and that is not fair. Now I know why. You are the embodiment of the order. The organization that took my entire life from me. In the name of which, I have taken many other's. An order to which I have my pledged my life service. To which I have faithfully returned to time and time again. I have defended it, and I still now work so hard to save it. But, maybe it isn't worth saving. I'm sorry I made you feel the way that you do, but I'm trusting you now. Trusting you with something big. You have a choice, an important one."

Mill disengages his lightsaber and lowers it so his side. He continues, "The force must be balanced, this much I know to be true. I believe further that it wants Menyoo and I to cross this bridge and continue our mission. You are our only obstacle. You have the choice to end the cycle of violence right here and now. My fate, the fate of your and Menyoo's generation, and if we are correct, quite possibly the future of the galaxy. This will only end in one of two ways. You will let us pass," Mill looks over to Menyoo, who stands off to the side, listening attentively. Sbeit tracks Mill's line of sight to Menyoo, then yanks his head back to face Mill as he finishes speaking, "Or, you will cut me down here and now."

Sbeit tightens his grip on his lightsaber. Menyoo too grasps his lightsaber, but he only manages a flinch before he is too late. Sbeit releases an uncontrolled howl before driving his lightsaber into Mill's stomach. Mill's lightsaber slips out of his fingers and thuds against the bridge. After a sharp clank of metal hitting metal, it rolls down the curved edge, gaining momentum before hitting the short strip of metal that separates the bridge from the open air. The hilt climbs over the strip and falls into the city depths below.

Dropping to his knees, Mill grabs Sbeit's thigh to hold himself up, but loses the strength to grip his robe, instead flattening out along the bridge. Mill turns weakly to his side and looks up at Sbeit. Sbeit's head is turned away from him, listing his lightsaber into a defensive stance. Mill hears a faint scream, barely audible over the sound of his own overworked heart—desperately pumping blood through his body.

Menyoo breaks into the scene and passionately slashes overhead at Sbeit. Sbeit blocks his attack and returns with a horizontal swipe, which Menyoo meets with his own well-timed block. The two exchange strikes, taking turns as attacker and defender; their footwork carries them across the length of the bridge in an intense, rage-driven tug of war over Mill's slack body

Mill watches the two duel as a sequence of thoughts crosses his mind, _He was too far gone, but did I make him this way? That uncontrolled excess of passion is exactly why the order will fail. I see that now. If only I saw it sooner. In Sbeit, or in myself. This fight will be deadly between the two of them, they are both mourning and blame the other. If they aren't both killed, whichever walks away from this fight will be worse off than the loser._

The fight closes in around Mill's body as Menyoo forces Sbeit backward within a meter of him. Mill tries rolling toward the edge to give them room, but his body fails to fulfill his last request. Instead, his head slinks back from the effort. He strains his neck to keep it in a position suitable for watching the fight. Menyoo makes a mistake, Mill and Sbeit both saw it before it happened. He reached too far with a diagonal slash across Sbeit's chest. Sbeit side steps his attempt, and slashes his saber upward in a wide arc, severing Menyoo's outstretched hand. Menyoo's hand drops to the ground; his lightsaber follows Mill's off the side of the bridge.

Mill wants to shout, to tell them they are fighting for nothing, but he feels the blood creep up his throat, blocking his air and trapping his voice. All he can do is watch as Sbeit struts in a circle around Menyoo as he laments over the death of his friend and loss of his hand. Menyoo's head shakes from the pain, or anger—Mill has no way to tell over the death-rattle ringing in his ears. Menyoo holds his forearm in place with his remaining hand, pressing the bloody stump up to his face in anguish, and lowering his forehead over the top of it.

Mill squints to watch as something else transpires: Menyoo releases his arm, then places his hand between his damaged arm and shoulder, out of view from Sbeit. He spreads his fingers out toward Mill's robe. Mill feels a tug at his belt, then watches as the lightsaber from Jaguada rushes out of from under his robe into Menyoo's remaining hand. Upon catching it, Menyoo turns and leaps into the air; igniting the purple blade, he slashes vengefully at Sbeit. Sbeit lifts his lightsaber in time to deflect the strike, but the conditioned surprise counteracts his training, leaving Menyoo enough time to follow the advantage with a series of wild strikes. The purple blade bounces off the blue, leaving flashes of brilliant sparks that ignite the darkening sky around them. Airspeeders swerve out of their way as the colors dance gallantly over the otherwise bleak bridge.

Mill watches the fight rage on as his ultimate thoughts materialize in his final moments of reflection: _This was not a complete failure. I will now be joining the force, and with my death, all of my questions will be answered. Maybe the next generation will be doomed, the rebalancing will require more blood than I alone can provide. But so long as there are men like Menyoo out there, there is hope._

In the encroaching dark, the scintillating streaks of purple and blue morph into an interpretive dance of warring colors. The horror culminating at its center is disguised by the beautiful spectacle that surrounds it as sabers cross between the striking orange and green figures. Mill's eyes struggle to remain open, depriving the scene of its rigid theatrics, relegating the fighting pair into a single blur of flickering lights—like holiday decorations blowing limply with the wind. As Mill's strength fades, his vision doubles, transposing the glimmering ball of light to separate corners of his vision. The last clear image he is left with leaves him feeling regretful, desperate to know the outcome of the match, but too far gone to muster the strength needed to witness it.

A frame of black closes in around his pupils, until small flurries of energy are all that is left of the dreadful scene. As he begins to close his eyes, a static blue form takes shape before him. Mill forces his fluttering eyes open one final time to see what came before him in his last moments. He is met with the misty image of his old master, standing before him in a wispy shade of glimmering blue. Corovack looks down on him; his warm smile balances his icy form. Mill's vision degenerates once more, in conjunction with a warm smile to match his master's, and a final thought: _At least for me, now, the cycle of violence will end._


End file.
